To The Bone
by DarkandtwistyGirl
Summary: Preseries. Sam’s life was finally going his way, he was almost finished school, his family had stayed in the same town for almost six months, he had a girlfriend, but when he heard that dreaded word, cancer... Everything changed. Sick!Sam *Complete*
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, or the characters, and chances are that I never will.**

**Here's my newest fic, and I'd just like to thank bia1007 for her help with this fic and giving me the push I needed to post it - You're the best hun!**

**And just as a little side note, this is the first fic I've written in past tense, so let me know if you think it works.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

It had been nearly six months since the Winchesters moved into their latest rental house, in Kansas City, Missouri, and things had been going so well that Sam could barely believe his luck. Staying at the one school not only long enough the stop being called the 'new kid', but to also establish a tight knit group of friends, and even for the previous two months, a girlfriend named Chloe. He had even joined the soccer team after promising his tyrant of a father that it wouldn't impact on his training, or any hunts they went on.

And with both Dean and John working nine to five at a local garage, it even looked possible that they might be staying put for some time yet, but in true Winchester fashion his streak of luck was brought to a grinding halt, when half way through a weekend soccer match, Sam was running, and he suddenly felt his leg snap mid-stride.

Dean was sitting in the stands alongside Chloe and several other of Sam's friends, when he saw his brother hit the ground, clutching at his right leg in pain, and within seconds, Dean was out of his seat, and with Chloe close at his heels, he rushed down to the field to help his younger brother. As he knelt beside Sam, Dean worriedly questioned him. "What's wrong, bro? What happened?"

Gasping in pain and shock, Sam answered. "My leg, I think it's broken."

Just then, the first aid officer came jogging over to Sam, and knelt beside Sam, as he said. "There's an ambulance on the way, we'll take care of you, kid. Can you tell me what happened?"

"I don't know." Sam ground out, his voice betraying the pain he was in. "One minute I was running, and then it just snapped."

The first aider gave Sam's shoulder a light, comforting squeeze before he moved down to start splinting Sam's leg.

Dean stayed at Sam's side as he winched and groaned in pain as his injured limb is jolted, and all the time he kept up a steady stream of reassuring words and comfort for his younger brother.

* * *

When the ambulance arrived several minutes later, the paramedics were quick to move Sam onto a gurney, and load him into the ambulance. As they prepared to leave, one of them called out to Dean. "Kid, you coming with us?"

Dean was hesitant for a moment. He desperately wanted to stay with his brother, but practically he needed to have transport, and that means following the ambulance in his own car. And so, with a sigh, Dean looked over at Chloe, and asked her. "Can you go Sam? Please."

Chloe nodded quickly, knowing how close Sam and Dean are and how hard this must be on him, especially with their father away so often. And without another word, she rushed over to the waiting ambulance, and climbed in beside Sam.

* * *

Two hours later, Dean and Chloe were sitting beside Sam's bed in the emergency department, when Sam's doctor caught Dean's eye in the doorway and motioned for him to join him in the hallway.

"I'll be right back, Sammy." Dean said quickly before standing up, and walking out into the hallway, where he is greeted by the doctor.

"Dean, I just wanted to speak with you about Sam's x-ray before I talk to him. Really I'd prefer to speak with your father, but I understand that he is away on business for the next few days."

"Yes sir." Dean answered automatically before he noticed the cardboard folder in the doctor's hand. "Is that Sam's?" He asked, pointing to the folder.

The doctor led Dean over to an empty exam room, where he put the x-rays up on the light board, and flicked it on as he said. "There's a shadow on the x-ray." He pointed to a spot just below the obvious fracture in Sam's lower leg.

"What is that?" Dean asked with panic starting to creep into his voice.

The doctor paused for a moment before informing Dean. "I've arranged to have a biopsy done, and once we've gotten the results from that we will know a lot more, so for now just try not to think the worst."

* * *

Meanwhile in Sam's room, he and Chloe were joking over Sam's accident, and debating what colour cast he should get. Sam was set on plain white or blue, but Chloe was trying to convince him to get a bright cast, maybe even pink. "Come on, Sam. Why not? It'd be worth it just to see the guys' reactions, don't ya think?"

Sam laughed at the mental imagery of his mates finding out that he got a pink cast, but he then lightly replied. "No way, Cloe. I'm not getting stuck with a pink cast just to get a laugh. No way."

Chloe pretended to sulk, only to break into laughter as she said. "Spoilsport. You never let me have any fun."

"I let you have plenty of fun." Sam said in response, making reference to their relationship. And to make his point, he leant over towards her as far as his splinted leg allowed, and catching her by surprise, kissed her passionately. He was truly grateful for the pain meds right now; he felt no pain as he bumped his leg in the process.

It had been so good just to be a normal teenager, well as normal as someone who spends most their weekends hunting the supernatural can be. He had no idea that in just a couple of hours his normal world would come crumbling down.

* * *

**TBC...**

**Thanks for reading! Please review!**

**And if you've got any ideas of suggestions for this fic, feel free to put them in a review or PM.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, or the characters, and chances are that I never will.**

**Thanks so much to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter! You're the best.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Once he finished speaking to the doctor, Dean returned to Sam's room, his weary, haggard way of carrying himself spoke volumes to Sam, and when Dean said "Chloe, can you give us a minute?" he gave her a small nod of approval, and as soon as she was out of the room, he turned to his older brother, and worriedly, he asked. "What's wrong, Dean?"

Dean was silent for a moment, taking a seat beside his brother, and in more of a chick-flick moment than he'd ever admit, he took hold of Sam's hand, squeezing it comfortingly as he said. "I just spoke to your doc, Sammy."

"And?" Sam prompted, getting more worked up by the second.

Dean just couldn't bring himself to tell Sam, and forced himself to sound upbeat as he said. "You broke your leg, genius."

Sam however didn't buy it for a second that that was what had Dean so stressed, he already knew his leg was broken, but he was now getting the impression that something else was going on, and he was going to find out what. "I know that, Dean. What else?"  
"What else what?" Dean asked, playing dumb, though he knew that his brother had already begun to figure out his lie.

"What else did the doctor say?" Sam demanded firmly, he knows his brother too well.

There was a long pause before Dean told Sam. "The x-ray showed something, Sam. They want to do some tests."

"Something? What sort of something, Dean?! What's wrong with me?"

Sighing softly, Dean moved closer to Sam, drawing comfort from their closeness as he told Sam. "They didn't say, Sam. But from how the guy was acting…" He trailed off, unable to bring himself to say it.

"Cancer?" Sam whispered almost inaudibly, disbelievingly. How can this be happening to him? Why can't he just be happy?

Dean nodded slowly before he looked back up at Sam, and said. "But even if it is, we're gonna get through this, Sammy. I'll get you through this."

* * *

When Chloe came back from getting a coffee from the cafeteria a minute later, she immediately noticed the change in the air, something is wrong. She didn't hesitate in asking. "What's going on, Sam? Are you alright??"

Sam turned his attention from his brother, to his girlfriend, and lightly offered her a false reply. "It's nothing, Cloe. Just some family stuff." He really liked her, maybe he even loved her, but that's exactly why he couldn't tell her, not until they at least knew for sure. She may have been the same age as him, but she still had her innocence, unlike her boyfriend who's seen and done more than most people will do in a lifetime, and he couldn't take that from her.

* * *

Several minutes after returning to the room, Chloe asked a simple question. "Where's your Dad, Sam? Shouldn't he be here?" But as soon as she saw her boyfriend's expression suddenly darken, she knew she shouldn't have.

Worried of what his emotionally charged brother might say next, Dean quickly interjected. "Chloe, would you mind going and getting me something from the cafeteria?"

Chloe was clearly surprised, but nodded in agreement before receiving some money from Dean, and quickly leaving the room.

* * *

Once they were alone, Dean frustratedly questioned his brother. "What the hell, Sam?! What were you thinking!?! If I wasn't here… damn it Sam, you have to be more goddamned careful, we can't afford to have social services getting involved now!"

"It's not my fault, Dean! Dad should freakin' be here, not off hunting some damn creature. He has barely even been home between hunts and his job, he's not fit to be called our father!"

If Dean was mad before, now he was furious, not even his own brother could get away with saying that sort of shit about their dad. "You don't know what you're talking about, Sam! Dad'd do anything for us! He rented that damn apartment to make you happy, and that job you're whining about …what do you think pays for everything?!"

Before Sam could respond, a harassed looking nurse barged into the room, and without any hesitation, she told Dean. "I don't know what's going on here, but this is a hospital, so sit down and shut up or you're out."

There was a pause before Dean looked towards the nurse, and with false sincerity said. "Yes, Ma'am. We just got a bit worked up, it won't happen again." Before he sat down in the furthest corner of the room from Sam, and picked up a magazine to read as the nurse left.

* * *

When Chloe had returned from the cafeteria with some food, she only stayed a minute before leaving again, unable to cope with the terse silence in the room, leaving Sam and Dean waiting alone again.

And late that afternoon, when the time for Sam to go for the biopsy rolls around, and the orderly walked into the room, neither of them said anything as the orderly prepared to move the gurney Sam was lying on.

It was only as the orderly started to push the gurney out of the room that Sam reached out towards Dean, and nervously asked him. "Stay with me, please."

Without pause Dean climbed out of his seat, and moved to his brother's side, taking a firm grip of his hand as he walked beside the gurney. Their argument was forgotten immediately.

* * *

In the procedure room, Sam and Dean were greeted by a nurse, who upon deciding that getting Dean to leave was more hassle than it was worth, gave him a set of scrubs and various other sterile gear to wear, she then moved onto preparing Sam, talking to him as she did. "You know of all the places for this to happen, you got lucky, this place, Children's Mercy, it's the best paediatrics centre around here. And your doctor, Alanah Harris is even one of the only doctor's in the country who specializes in treating these sorts of things." She wisely refrained from saying the 'C' word.

* * *

The doctor arrived several minutes later to do the biopsy, and after briefly speaking to the nurse, who then left the room, she came over to Sam, and subsequently Dean, who was sitting beside him, his hand still firmly intertwined with Sam's. "Hi guys, I'm Dr Harris. You must be Sam."

"Yeah, hi." Sam said softly, squeezing Dean's hand a little harder.

"I'm sorry I haven't been able to meet with you sooner, I've had an emergency." Alanah apologised as she pulled over a stool so she was sitting eye to eye with the brothers. "But I'm here now, so once I've gone over a couple of things with you we can get this done, and try to get you some answers, okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

Dr Harris picked up Sam's chart from a nearby table, and flicked through it as she asked. "Can you just tell me how you broke your leg, Sam? I just want to hear it from you."

"Fine." Sam replied tiredly, before continuing. "I was playing soccer, and I was running when I just felt it snap. That's because of whatever's wrong with me, this cancer, right?"

Alanah offered Sam a small smile as she told him. "We don't know it's cancer…"

"But you think it is?" Dean piped in, not releasing his grip on Sam's hand.

Dr Harris' lack of response said more than words could. She knew the story, and his symptoms couldn't be more textbook; the biopsy is just a formality.

There was a long silence before Dr Harris stood up from her seat, and moved over to the far side of the room to gather supplies for the test. She was just pulling on a pair of gloves as an older, kind faced nurse comes came into the room. The nurse briefly spoke to Dr Harris before taking hold of a trolley of supplies, and wheeling it over to where Sam was lying.

"Hello there, Sam. My name's Tina, I'm going to be helping out with your biopsy. How're you doing? Alright?" She asked concernedly as she continued what the previous nurse had been doing in placing a sterile drape over Sam's splinted leg, before starting to cleanse a small patch of his skin with antiseptic.

"I'm okay." Sam told her, a slight tremor in his voice giving away his actual unease.

"What're you doing?" Dean asked, vigilantly watching the nurse's every move.

Tina paused what she was doing as she told the brother's. "I just have to make sure that the skin is clean, the last thing you need is an infection. Once I'm done here, Dr Harris will come over to do the actual biopsy."

Dean nodded in approval as he continued to watch Tina, and a moment later he silently watched as Alanah walked back over towards Sam.

As Alanah donned a pair of gloves, she told Sam. "Okay, Sam. I'm going to get started now…" She immediately noticed Sam tense up. "Relax, I'll talk you through everything I'm doing."

And so she began, and true to her word Dr Harris kept up an almost constant monologue of her actions. It didn't escape her notice that firstly Dean and Sam maintained constant eye contact, along with a tight hold on each other's hand, and also that each time Sam grimaced or shifted slightly in pain or discomfort, Dean quietly offered his brother words of comfort; their bond was obviously extremely close.

* * *

**TBC...**

**Thanks for reading! Please review!**

**And if you've got any ideas of suggestions for this fic, feel free to put them in a review or PM.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, or the characters, and chances are that I never will.**

**Thanks so much to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter! **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

An hour later, once Sam was settled into a room on one of the general wards, Dean slipped out of the room 'to go get coffee', and as soon as he was past the unit doors, he pulled out his phone, and for the fifth time that day he dialled his father's number. Just as he resigned himself to being unable to reach his father, John gruffly answered the phone. "Yeah?"

Recovering quickly, Dean replied. "Dad, it's Dean. You need to come home, Sam got hurt, and now the doctors are saying that he's sick, really sick, Dad, they think he has cancer."

The line went so quiet that for a moment Dean thought his father had hung up on him, but eventually, John asked him. "Where are you?"

"Children's Mercy, Kansas City. Ward five, room eighteen."

"It'll take me a day's drive to get back, okay? I mean is Sam gonna be alright and everything?" John said with genuine concern in his voice.

This time it was Dean's turn to hesitate, he honestly didn't know if his brother would be alright, and it was scaring the hell out of him. "They've done a bunch of tests, said that nothing would be happening until they get the results. He's doing okay for now, kid's pretty much knocked out on the pain pills they gave him."

"Always has been a lightweight when it comes to the strong ones." John replied knowingly, before the thought came to him. "Why does he need them anyway? You said he got hurt?"

"He broke his leg at soccer, his doctor, Harris, she said that it was weakened."

There was a sigh on the other end of the line before John said. "Okay, well. I'll hit the road in an hour or so, I've just gotta get this hunt out of the way. I'll be back by tomorrow evening at the latest. Can you manage 'til then, son?"

"Yeah, we'll be okay, Dad." Dean replied before he said his goodbyes, and hung up the phone as he made his way back to Sam's room.

* * *

Late the next afternoon, Dean had slipped out to pick up some things for Sam, when Dr Harris knocked on the door of Sam's room. Sam glanced over to the window beside the door, and upon seeing his doctor, he told Chloe, who was sitting on the bed beside him. "I'm sorry, Cloe" before he called out for the doctor to enter.

As Dr Harris walked into the small hospital room she greeted Sam. "Good afternoon, Sam. How're you feeling today?"

Sam shrugged before he said. "This is my girlfriend, Chloe."

Alanah extended her hand to Chloe as she greeted her. "Nice to meet you, Chloe. I'm Dr Harris, I've been treating your boyfriend."

"Hi." Chloe said softly, feeling like she'd rather be anywhere else right now, but having sensed how quickly Sam tensed when the doctor entered the room, she felt compelled to stay.

Dr Harris sat down in a seat beside the bed, facing Sam and Chloe as she asked Sam. "I've got your test results back, Sam. Is your brother going to be back soon, do you want to wait until he's here to go over everything?"

"What's she talking about, Sam? You broke your leg, why'd you need tests. What's going on?" Chloe whispered to Sam, a frantic note in her voice.

Sam gently squeezed Chloe's hand in comfort as he told his doctor. "He's gone back to our apartment for a while." And after taking a deep breath to steady himself as he said. "You can just tell me doc."

Dr Harris was hesitant, but complied with her patient's request. "I wish it was better news, Sam, but the test results have conclusively shown that there is a large malignant growth on your right tibial bone; and that probably means absolutely nothing to you." She added, not knowing that Sam had spent several hours that morning downstairs in the small research area of the hospital. He understood exactly what she said, he's got cancer.

"What type is it; I was reading earlier that there are different types?" Sam said, pushing down the fear and uncertainty that threatened to overwhelm him, by using his natural curiosity and desire to know as much as he can.

Dr Harris was not keen to continue, despite Sam's effort to hide it, she saw how his face fell when she told him, she also saw the young girl sitting beside him turn more than a bit pale as she moved closer to Sam, seeking some kind of reassurance, with no success. But still after a moment she felt compelled to tell Sam the truth, lying to patients ultimately never helped the situation, in her experience it's better just to tell things like they are. "The type of cancer you've got is called an osteosarcoma." Alanah then put a smile, albeit a forced one back on her face as she told Sam. "But it's not all bad, there've been a number of advances in recent years."

"Like what?"

Alanah was about to answer him, but she noticed how weary Sam was looking, and so as she rested a hand on his forearm, she told him. "There's a lot to go over, it'll be easier if I just go over your treatment plan when your Dad and brother get here. For now you should just try to get some rest."

* * *

Once Dr Harris has left, instead of getting to sleep his body so desperately craved, Sam found himself being practically interrogated by his panicked girlfriend. "What's going on, Sam? You've got cancer?! I mean, what's happening?"

"I'm sorry, Chloe, I didn't want to tell you before I knew for certain. I'm really sorry." Sam said genuinely as he pulled her closer to him, and as he held her trembling form against his own, he softly whispered to her. "Everything's going to be okay, I swear, it'll be okay." _She needs to hear it, even if it isn't true._

Within minutes, the young emotionally exhausted couple fall asleep together on the narrow hospital bed.

* * *

But it wasn't long before their sleep is disturbed by several peoples mocking coos and awws. Sam was the first to awaken, and upon opening his eyes he found his group of seven friends gathered around the bed, he resisted the urge just to pretend that he hadn't woken up, and hope that they'd leave, he couldn't hide forever, and he might as well face them. And so he wearily moved to put the bed upright and give Chloe a shake to wake her up as he greeted his friends. "Hey guys."

"Hey Sam, Chloe, hope we weren't interrupting anything." One guy at the front of the group, Matt said with a laugh as the girl standing beside him handed Sam a novelty sized card.

"Here you go, Sam. We all signed this."

Sam accepted the card as he thanked her. "Thanks, Jamie." For affect he opened the card, and looked at it for an acceptable length of time before with false enthusiasm he told the group. "This is great guys, thanks."

As they settled in around the room, another guy, Sam's best friend since arriving in Kansas City, Reece asked Sam. "So what's the verdict, did you break your leg?"

"Yeah."

"Bummer, guess you'll miss the rest of the season then." Reece said, disappointment evident in his voice. Sam was their team's best chance at winning regionals that year.

Sam hadn't even thought about that, honestly his friends, his school, everything but his family had been pushed from his mind. But not wanting to bring his friends down, he told them. "Yeah, it looks like that. Tell the rest of the team that I'm sorry, would you?"

"Will do, Sam. So anyway do you know how long you're going to be stuck in here? I thought they just put a cast on it and send you home."

There was a brief pause, that was only ended when the usually quietest member of the group, Marshall said "For your sake Reece, the longer he's in here, the better, maybe with Winchester out, you might actually be able to get a girl's attention" the joke was clear, and Sam shot Marshall a grateful look for drawing the attention away from the previous question as the group broke into casual, light-hearted banter at Reece's expense.

While the rest of the group was focussed on their conversation, Marshall glanced over at Sam, and the despairing expression on his face, which Sam knew hadn't gone unnoticed when Marshall offered a reassuring smile, while their other friends, Chloe included are too distracted to notice.

* * *

Meanwhile at the Winchester family's apartment on the other side of town, Dean had only come to the apartment to pick up a couple of things, but as soon as he stepped into Sam's bedroom, and he saw the trophy Sam had won earlier in the year for basketball and the countless awards and certificates for academics, he couldn't stop himself from breaking down, right then and there. His baby brother had finally gotten a go at the normal life he so desperately craved, and now it was caving down around him.

_It's not fair._

_Why couldn't it have been me?!_

_If he's really got cancer, what's going to happen?_

_Will he still be able to do everything? _

_He's been so happy._

_Why'd this have to happen, why can't we just catch a goddamned break, just once?!_

_Oh god, please don't let him die._

* * *

**TBC...**

**Thanks for reading! Please review!**

**I wasn't sure about how the scene with Sam's friends worked, so sorry if it really sucked!**

**Suggestions and CONSTRUCTIVE criticism is welcome, feel free to put them in a review or PM.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, or the characters, and chances are that I never will.**

**Thanks so much to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter! **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Dean was still on his knees, his head in his hand, crying and shaking when his father returned not long after, John was taken aback to see his eldest looking so venerable, but despite himself, he knelt down beside Dean, and wrapped his arm around him as he worriedly asked. "You alright, Dean? Did something happen to Sam?"

Still shaking, Dean turned to face his father, and said. "I just came back to get some of his gear …Why's this happening, Dad?! Sammy doesn't deserve this."

Though he still wasn't quite sure what was happening, John comforted his son as best he could. "It's going to be okay, Dean. It's okay, kiddo, it's going to be okay."

* * *

Eventually, Dean calmed down, and moved away from his father, as he said. "I'm sorry, Dad. I don't know… I just, it just got to me."

"It's okay, Dean." John assured him as he helped his son to his feet, and he then said. "How 'bout you go get a drink, and I'll get together some things for Sam? And then we can head over to the hospital?"

Dean nodded in agreement before he asked. "Do you know what to get? He'll want those old pjs of his, the ones he bought back in Amherst last year, and-"

"I've got it, Dean. Go relax for a minute." John interrupted his son, then adding. "I am his father, Dean; I can pack a bag for him."

Dean sighed tiredly as he turned towards the doorway, but just as he was about to walk away, he added. "Don't forget his mp3, or his schoolwork, or-"

"I've got it, Dean." John repeated frustratedly, he has already had a long weekend, and it made him strongly question his parenting, when a moment later he had to call out to Dean. "Which pajamas did you say, Dean?"

Dean couldn't help but laugh out aloud as he walked back into Sam's room, and stepped in front of his father as he reached into the wardrobe and retrieved the chosen attire, along with everything else he wanted to get, meanwhile John tiredly went to search out Sam's duffel bag, settling for simply packing the items handed to him into the bag.

* * *

It was another forty five minutes while Dean and John finished packing, and then drove over to the hospital before they reached their youngest family member's room. By that time all of Sam's friends had gone home, and he was sitting along in the room, reading a magazine he'd been brought.

As soon as he noticed his family enter the room, Sam put down his magazine, and looked up at Dean and John.

One look into his baby brother's eyes, and Dean knew that their worst fears had been confirmed. Wordlessly, he moved over to Sam's side, and pulled his brother into a hug, only then he said. "Are they sure?"

The only response he received was a small nod, and that was all it took for both brothers to break down, consumed by their fears and the uncertainty of the whole situation.

And John was left standing in the doorway, completely at a loss of how to help his boys.

* * *

It wasn't until Dr Harris walked into the room several minutes later, that Sam and Dean finally pulled apart, though even then they still remained close. After she quickly introduced herself to John, she pulled a couple of chairs over to the beside, sitting down in one, while offering the other to John, who accepted it, just grateful that he didn't have to find a way to talk to his sons.

There was a brief silence before Dr Harris spoke up again. "So, now that you're all here, I would like to go over the treatment plan I've made for Sam. First off, John, can I just ask how much you know? I think it's very important that before anything else you know the basics of what is happening."

"Not much." John stated honestly, all he knew was that his youngest had been diagnosed with cancer. And no matter what, the same thought kept racing through his head. _Oh god, my baby has cancer._

"Okay then." Dr Harris said before she began to explain everything to John, and also to the boys. "When Sam broke his leg, we did an x-ray, and that showed a suspicious mass, which we did a biopsy on, and as I've already told Sam, unfortunately that confirmed that the mass is cancerous." She paused briefly, allowing them to gather their thoughts. "Are you keeping up so far?"

Dean could only nod, while John murmured a simple "yeah" as a response.

She then continued. "And I know you really don't want to hear any more bad news right now, but there is more, we also did several scans to check for signs that the cancer has spread, and they showed that there are a number of metastatic, secondary tumours in Sam's lungs. Now I know how bad all this seems, but there are treatments that have been shown to be very effective, and if they are successful, and I can't lie to you, sometimes they don't work, but with successful treatment you can go back to leading a normal life. That said, you need to know that the overall survival rate for the stage of osteosarcoma that you have is only thirty percent, but I don't want that to discourage you, I've seen kids with much worse a prognosis than that walk out of this hospital."

At this point, Dean and John were rendered unable to speak due to the sheer shock and concern brought up by the doctor's words, and that left Sam, who was still numb to everything, somewhat disbelieving still, to ask the next question. "What sort of treatment is it? I was reading earlier that you sometimes have to cut the whole leg off, aren't-"

"What!?!" Dean exclaimed panicked. How could Sam even say that?! That can't happen!

Sam placed his hand on his brother's hand, and gave it a comforting squeeze, ignoring his own feelings as his desire to prevent his brother from all the pain and hurt he knows is coming their way, as they listened to Dr Harris' response.

* * *

**TBC...**

**Thanks for reading! Please review!**

**I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, the next one is already almost finished, so hopefully you won't have to wait too long for it to be posted, but as always, reviews help me to write faster. I know it sounds bad, but it's true, I swear!**

**Suggestions and CONSTRUCTIVE criticism is welcome, feel free to put them in a review or PM.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, or the characters, and chances are that I never will.**

**Thanks so much to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter! **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"That is sometimes required, Sam." Alanah informed her young patient after a brief pause, but she then told him. "But in your case the primary tumour is relatively small, and I've consulted with several other specialists, who you will probably meet in the next few days, and we've decided that it'll be worth at least trying a 'limb salvage' surgery first, and only if that fails will we have to consider an amputation. Now our plan for your treatment is to give you several rounds of a combination of chemotherapeutic drugs, and then depending on how you respond to that, we'll plan the surgery and any follow up chemo you might need. This really is a complete information overload, and there's no way you can take in all at once, so here's some pamphlets that most people find to be helpful. And I know I'm using a lot of technical words, but hopefully the information in these pamphlets will help clear things up for you, and remember that if you think of any questions, anything at all you can ask myself or one of the nurses." As she said this, Alanah handed Sam several brightly coloured booklets, which he put down on the over bed table alongside the card from his friends, their glum facts and figures a stark contrast to the wishes of hope and recovery from his friends.

"Thanks."

Before they can say anymore, a nurse walked into the room, and this prompted Dr Harris to introduce the family to her. "Sam, Dean, John, this is Josie, she'll be Sam's primary oncology nurse, she'll be the one giving Sam his treatments, and she will also be someone you can call on to ask questions or if there is a problem, especially after you've gone home."

"Hi Sam." Josie said brightly as she extended her hand to him, shaking his before doing the same with John and Dean.

"Hi." Sam mumbled, his usual manners long gone, as he went straight back to asking. "How does the chemotherapy work? I read that there were different medications, and even different ways to get it."

Glad to have her patient actively involved in this discussion, Dr Harris answered. "That's right, Sam. There are dozens of different drugs we use to treat cancer, and though most of them are given through an IV or a central line, there are some that are given in tablet form or other forms, but the drugs we are planning to give you, Etoposide, Cisplatin, and Ifosfamide are all given intravenously, directly into your bloodstream. And that in mind, I would strongly advise that you consider having a central line or port inserted into the main artery in your chest that goes to your heart, otherwise you'll have to have a new IV line put in for each treatment, and over time your veins will become tough, which can make that painful and difficult. Is that something that you would consider? I don't think I've ever had a patient who regretted having a line placed before."

"Okay, sounds good." Sam agreed, but much to his surprise this was the moment his father spoke up, seemingly having remembered that he was the parent in the room.

"Hold up a minute. This thing you're talking about, a central line, or whatever it is, how do you do that? Is it safe for Sam?"

Dr Harris turned to face John as she told him. "I'd recommend that Sam get a port-a-cath, which is a small plastic port that we put under the skin of his chest, and that has a tube which goes into the artery that as I just explained to Sam, will lead to his heart, and that will allow us to give him chemotherapy, antibiotics, fluids, supplemental nutrition, whatever else he needs during treatment without having to keep sticking him with needles. They're usually put in in the operating room under a general anaesthetic, by one of our surgeons. There are risks associated with the procedure and the port itself, bleeding and infection, mainly, but in my opinion the risks are well outweighed by the benefits."

"But it is ultimately your decision, John, and Sam's of course." Josie added in helpfully as she was checking the splint on Sam's leg.

For once in his life, John actually turned to his youngest son, and with genuine interest in finding out what Sam wanted, he asked. "Sam, what do you think kiddo? Are you sure you want this?"

"Yeah, Dad. It'll be alright." Sam agreed, glancing over to Dean as he said this, reassuring his brother, who despite the tough exterior they all saw, Sam knew was struggling to maintain his composure. "It'll be alright."

John nodded as he subconsciously moved closer to his boys as he said. "Okay."

"Okay, I'll organise for the operation to put the port in in the next couple of days" Dr Harris told them before saying. "And once it's had a few days to heal, we'll start the chemo, and if everything goes well with the first doses, you can have the treatments in our outpatient centre."

"You said that he'd be having chemo before surgery or whatever, right?" Dean now questioned.

"Yes, he'll probably have at least two rounds of chemotherapy before surgery, to attempt to shrink the tumours, each of those rounds takes twenty one days, three days of chemo, eighteen days to recover."

Dean paused, thinking for a moment before he asked. "So what happens in the mean time? Does he have to have a cast? I mean, his leg is broken, you don't just leave it, do you?"

"No, we don't just leave it, someone will come and put on a cast before you go home."

* * *

It was late that evening before Dean and John finally left Sam, and returned to their apartment, where they only just sat down before Dean told his father. "I'm going to quit working at the garage."

"What?" John asked, perplexed.

Dean sighed as he continued. "Sam's going to need someone here with him when he gets home, and I only get half the wage you do, it's better if I just stop working, and then I can be here for Sam all the time, he shouldn't be alone through this, Dad." _And it's my job to be there for him, not yours, it hasn't been yours in a long time._

* * *

Two days later, Tuesday morning, Dean went to see Sam at the hospital, while John had to go into work, having now quit his job, Dean didn't have to worry about missing work to be there for Sam at all times.

Just as Dean reached the hallway where Sam's new room on the oncology floor was located, he saw his brother being wheeled out of the gurney.

Dean had hoped to arrive before Sam was taken into surgery to have the port put in, but he'd have to make do. "Hey, wait up." He called out to the orderly who was pushing the gurney carrying Sam.

Dean saw Sam say something to the orderly, and a moment later the orderly stopped, allowing Dean to catch up easily. As he reached his brother's side, Dean said. "Hey Sammy, are you doing okay there, little brother?"

"Yeah, I'm okay, Dean." Sam assured him, reaching up to take hold of his hand as he asked. "You'll be here after, won't you?"

Obviously Dean was quick to reassure his brother. "Course I will, Sammy, there's nowhere else I'd be kiddo. I'll be right there when you wake up from the anaesthetic, okay?"

"Thanks Dean." Sam replied gratefully as he settled back down onto the gurney.

"See you in a couple of hours, Sam." Dean said with false confidence as he stepped away from the gurney, and watched as the orderly wheeled his brother towards the operating room; it may only be a simple procedure, a baby step in this road they're going down, but for Dean, watching his brother being taken away to be cut into is the hardest thing he's ever done.

* * *

**TBC...**

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	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, or the characters, and chances are that I never will.**

**Thanks so much to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter! **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Everything goes smoothly, and afterwards, due to an overly busy recovery area, Sam was brought straight back to his room, and as soon as the door opens, Dean is on his feet, meeting the gurney carrying his brother as it is pushed into the room.

Sam was still under the effects of the anaesthetic, and if it wasn't for the oxygen tubing snaking under his nose, the IV in the back of his hand, and the small gauze patch on the right side of his chest, which Dean assumed was covering the newly placed port, Dean could've sworn that he was just sleeping, but Dean knew better, and as it was, it was hell for him to see his brother like this, and knowing that this is only the beginning made it so much worse.

* * *

That afternoon, by which time Sam had more or less recovered from the procedure, apart from feeling a bit sore where the port was inserted under his skin, when for the first time in over two days, Chloe, along with Marshall walked into Sam's room. "Hey, Sam." Chloe greeted her boyfriend as she moved over to the bed, and placed a quick kiss on his cheek. "We had the worst time trying to find you, babe, why've they got you up here with all the cancer kids, needed the bed or something?" Chloe then said, playing dumb for Marshall's benefit, or so Sam and Dean would be led to believe, but Sam saw straight through her words, teenaged girls aren't exactly known for their ability to keep secrets.

Sam looked straight to Marshall, and greeted him "Hey man, thanks for coming around." before he directly asked him. "You know, don't you?"

"No, I didn't tell them anything, Sam." Chloe swore fervently, but her tone lacked any sincerity.

"Chloe…" Marshall said softly, imploring for her just to confess now.

Chloe said nothing, and after a moment, Marshall offered Sam a small, sad smile before he told him. "Yeah, Sam. I know, we all do …and most of the school too. Sorry."

Suddenly Chloe had plenty to say, but Sam barely heard her weak excuses and apologies, too distracted by the news. _Everyone knows, everyone knows that I've got cancer, this sucks, this completely and utterly sucks. I didn't want them to know, I don't really know how I would've hidden it, but I really just didn't want them to know._

After a while Dean asked the obvious question. "If they know, then why aren't they here, the rest of your group?"

"Um…" Chloe mumbled, unwilling to answer.

And a moment later, it was Marshall who responded. "They didn't know what to say, they thought it might be better if they just gave you some space, Sam, until this is over." Once he saw the dangerous fury emanating from Sam's oldest brother, Marshall held his hands up in surrender as he added. "I swear I told them not to, cancer or not, you're still the same guy."

"They didn't know how to deal, Sam. It's not like this is the sort of thing that happens everyday you know." Chloe said in their defence and her own as she added. "I don't really know either. I don't know if I can do this, Sam."

That was the last straw for Dean, seeing Sam's 'friends' all turning their backs on him so easily. "You find out that your friend's got cancer, and what you just say see ya later?! What the hell kind of friends do you think you are!?!"

Marshall backed away into a corner, avoiding the confrontation, as Chloe defended herself by saying. "I haven't done anything wrong, I'm still here, I was just saying that this is really difficult, and I don't know what I'm meant to do here. I really do want to be here, but it's… it's really hard."

"It's okay, Cloe." Sam said forgivingly, understanding her predicament. He shot Dean a glance that clearly said 'let it go', before he told Chloe and Marshall. "It's just like Marsh said, I'm still the same guy, I don't want things to change just because of this, I'm going to have the treatment, and things will go back to normal."

* * *

But just three days later, Sam's hope of things being normal was dragged further out of reach, when not long after Dean had arrived, Josie entered the room, pushing a tray loaded with medical paraphernalia. "Good morning, Sam, Dean. How's everything going this morning? Are you ready to get started?"

Sam moved ever so slightly closer to Dean, seeking his comfort as he shakily answered. "Okay, I guess. Let's just do this."

Uneasily Dean stood up, and moved slightly away from the bed, as motioned to by Josie, so she can get access to Sam. Seeing Sam's increasing anxiety at his distance, Dean assured him. "I'm right here, Sam. It's okay."

"It's okay, Sam." Josie reiterated before she told him. "Once I've put the line in, Dean can sit with you."

Sam was still clearly not happy about the situation, understandably, as he listened to Josie's running commentary on what she was doing.

"Okay, I'm just going to start off by giving the skin above your port a bit of a clean. And now you're just going to feel a bit of a pinch as I put the needle in." She showed the needle to the boys, explaining. "This is a huber needle, a port should only ever be accessed by one of these." Josie then gently pulled the skin over the port taut, keeping it steady as with her other hand she pushed the needle through Sam's skin. "After a while the skin over your port will become less sensitive, and you'll hardly feel it."

But this was cold comfort to both brothers, it still hurt, and Dean hated feeling so powerless to protect his baby brother from even the small amount of pain.

"Sorry, almost done. I'll just put a dressing on this to keep it in place, and hook you up to the first bag, it'll just be what we call a pre-hydration solution, it's just saline, salt water."

"Why do you do that?" Dean asked, carefully watching Sam's nurse's every move.

Josie continued what she was doing as she answer Dean's question. "It's very important that the chemotherapy drugs are flushed through the body quickly, because otherwise they can cause serious damage to the liver and kidneys, and also if you get sick after the treatment, we don't want you to become dehydrated. We'll also give him another bag of saline at the end of the treatment."

"So after that is all in, then you start giving me the chemo?" Sam questioned trying and failing to keep the nervous tone out of his voice.

"Not quite, Sam. Once the saline is done, then we'll give you a drug called Mesna, we always give that to patients taking Ifosfamide, because like I said before, it is potentially toxic to your liver and kidneys. It'll also be given at the end of the treatment, okay?"

"Sounds great." Sam said sarcastically as he watched Josie connect the bag to the tubing running from his port.

* * *

Josie stayed nearby, answering various questions from Sam and Dean, through the first three hours of the treatment, but just as she hung the third drug, and informed them that it might take up to eight hours to run in, she was called away to attend to another patient, and no sooner than she had left the room, Sam urgently told Dean. "Gonna be sick."

Thinking fast, Dean grabbed the basin left on the over-bed table by Josie, and shoved it in front of Sam as his body was gripped by severe nausea, and subsequently vomiting, as it protested against the powerful drugs being pumped in.

_It's started. _Dean thought glumly as he tried desperately to comfort and support his brother through each painful heave and almost constant shivering. It truly was hell to watch, he couldn't imagine what it must have felt like for Sam.

* * *

**TBC...**

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	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, or the characters, and chances are that I never will.**

**Thanks so much to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter! Sorry this chapter took a while, I was having trouble figuring out how to write the scenes I wanted to put in, I hope the wait was worth it. Please let me know what you think!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

It wasn't until late that night that Chloe came around to see Sam, by that time he'd finished the chemo session, and after what seemed like an eternity, given a medication to ease the nausea, though even then he was still feeling far from great.

No sooner had Chloe pulled the door open, Sam was doubled over dry heaving again. It took Dean a moment to figure it out, but then he noticed the strong odour of Chloe's perfume, and as he attempted to comfort Sam, he shouted at Chloe. "Get out! Now!"

"What?!? Why?!" Chloe asked, unaware of what the problem is, she has come all this way, gotten dressed up, done her makeup. And now, quite honestly she was scared by the sight of her boyfriend.

"Your perfume, the smell's making him sick. Get out." Dean told her, before turning his attention away from the rapidly retreating teenager, back to Sam. "It's okay, Sammy. Just breathe, it'll stop, just breathe."

Sam tried to listen to his brother's comforting words as his body was seemingly turning against him, but it was so tough, he felt like hell. And seeing his girlfriend being forced away because she was the source of his current suffering only made it all the worse.

* * *

As soon as Sam was finally able to relax, after close to an hour of torture, he tiredly thanked Dean for taking care of him, before he asked him. "Can you go find Chloe, it wasn't her fault? She must be really upset, tell her I'm sorry."

Dean sighed as he replied "Sure, Sammy. I'll be back in a few." Before climbing off the bed, and walking away. Though he pretended not to mind, Dean desperately didn't want to leave Sam, for any length of time, especially to chase down a young girl who couldn't handle what was happening.

* * *

It didn't take Dean long to find Sam's teen girlfriend, but when he did, the scene that he came across wouldn't be forgotten soon. Chloe was standing, pressed against a wall in the nearby stairwell by a random guy, a junior janitor probably if his uniform was anything to go by. Dean was momentarily silent before coming to his senses, and pulling the eager hospital employee away, cursing at him as he shoved him out the stairwell door.

That left Chloe standing, wearing nearly nothing, in front of Dean, mumbling every useless excuse she could think of.

Dean heard none of her excuses as he screamed at her. "What the hell were you doing!?! What were you thinking??"  
Chloe was shocked into silence, frightened by Dean's outburst.

"Nothing! That's what you were thinking, you weren't thinking!" Dean said angrily, pointing in the general direction of Sam's room as he continued. "You've got a boyfriend in there, my brother, who despite feeling like crap still wanted me to come out here and make sure you were okay. And this is how you treat him? Screwing around with some random while he's lying a damn hospital bed, sick as a dog from having chemo to keep the cancer from killing him. How the hell can you do that?!"

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? This isn't exactly standard territory, I don't know what to do. I came in here to visit him, and you kick me out before I can even say hello. I messed up." Chloe said with tears in her eyes, feeling disgusted with herself for ever doing it.

Dean ran a hand through his hair as he sighed, not sure of what to do next. He'd take Sam being moody over having to deal with an upset teenage girl, who he's trying to be angry at, any day.

* * *

Half an hour, and a deal not to mention the past couple of hours again to anyone, especially Sam, Dean and Chloe exited the stairwell, and walked away in separate directions, only one towards Sam's room.

* * *

Sam continued the treatment for two more days, and all the associated misery, before Dr Harris agreed to let him go home, he'd still probably be back at the hospital every other day, and he wouldn't be able to go to school or anywhere else most of the time, but it still sounded better than being stuck in the hospital for months.

The morning of his discharge, Sam expected to be picked up just by Dean, but much to his surprise, when Dean walked into his room, their father followed closely behind. Chloe was conspicuously missing, as she had been since the stairwell incident, but Sam hadn't commented, too tired to care, and no one was going to bring it up.

"Heya Sammy. You ready to get out of here?" Dean greeted his brother as he entered the room, and as he took in the fact that Sam still wasn't dressed, or generally looking at all ready to leave. He took it in his stride as he went over to the small cupboard, and gathered Sam's clothes, which he took straight over to the bed, dumping them at Sam's side. "Still feeling a bit tired, hey bro?"

Sam nodded in agreement, as he looked down at the clothes, which though they are now closer, still seemed impossible to manage getting into.

While John stayed back, Dean saw Sam's hesitation straight away, and as he picked up the first item, a t-shirt, he asked Sam. "You want some help, Sam?"

Too embarrassed that this is what he has been reduced to in a matter of days, Sam merely shrugged defeatedly as he pulled off the comfortable old, well worn pj top he had barely taken off since his family had brought it in.

Silently, Dean pulled the curtain around the bed, separating them from their father, and the rest of the world as he helped Sam out of the pajamas, and into the t-shirt and a pair of trackpants he'd gotten out, before pulling the curtain open as he motioned to their father to step forward. "We picked you up something on our way here."

John handed his youngest the sizeable bag he was carrying, before stepping back once again.

Sam opened the box that the bag held, and upon seeing the contents, a pair of ugg boots, he looked up at Dean, and asked him. "Thanks, guys, these are great, but why'd you get me a new pair, I've already got a pair."

Dean couldn't help but laugh, the pair that Sam had been wearing for the past few days had long ago past their prime, and showed it. "Those things have more holes in them than swiss cheese, Sammy. It's time to let them go, seriously dude, they're just gross."

Sam sighed good-naturedly as he took the boots out of their box, and put them on. "There, happy now?"

"I'll be happier when you're sitting in that wheelchair over there as I'm pushing you out of this place, Sammy. Despite all the Disney stickers trying to convince you otherwise, this place ain't Disneyland."

* * *

**TBC...**

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	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, or the characters, and chances are that I never will.**

**Thanks so much to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter! Sorry this chapter took soooo long! I just couldn't figure out what to write, so sorry if this chapter is complete trash.**

**Please let me know what you think!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Despite their hopes that being at home would make things easier, it didn't turn out that way at all, and barely a week after Sam came home, Dean was woken in the early hours of the morning by the sounds of Sam being sick, again. But as soon as he layed eyes on his brother, curled on the bathroom floor, shivering, and with his cheeks flushed with fever, Dean knew that this wasn't the same as other times.

Dean rushed to Sam's side, kneeling beside him as he urgently called out for their father. As he reached Sam, Dean rolled him over towards himself, holding Sam's head in his lap, as he urgently shook him. "Sam? Sammy?! What's wrong, Sam? Talk to me."

His efforts only earned an inaudible, unintelligible response from Sam, and that prompted Dean, cursing all the way, feeling beside himself with worry, to scoop his gangly younger brother into his arms, and carry him out of the bathroom, towards his room.

He was only just out the doorway, when a still half asleep looking John nearly ran into him, recovering quickly, Dean immediately told his father. "Something's wrong, Dad. I found him on the bathroom floor, I can't wake him up, he's burning up."

John appeared stunned for a moment before he said to Dean. "Take him to his room, try to get his temperature down. I'll call the hospital, see what we should do."

* * *

Within a few minutes John appeared at the doorway of Sam's room, and while holding cordless phone to his ear, he asked his older son. "What's his temperature, Dean?"

Dean looked up at his father, the grim expression on his face saying more than words. "Hundred point two."

John moved closer to his sons, giving Dean's shoulder a reassuring squeeze as he urgently relayed the information to the person on the other end of the line, along with numerous other details, what type of treatment Sam's been having, if there's been any other problems.

* * *

A moment later, John hung up the phone, and moved closer to Sam, lifting him into his arms as he told Dean. "We've got to take him back to the hospital, now. They said they'll have a room upstairs ready by the time we get there, and they'll be waiting for us at the main doors." Then as he realised how little his youngest was wearing, he asked Dean. "Grab that blanket, wrap it around him."

Dean did so without delay, and then followed his father out of the house, to the car.

John flung the keys to Dean who caught them easily as he was instructed. "You drive, I'll ride in the back with Sam."  
Dean hesitated for the slightest of moments before climbing into the driver's seat. _I should be the one with him, if he wakes up, he'll want me._

* * *

They weren't kidding when they said they'd be waiting for the small family to arrive, Dean had barely put the car in park when Sam was lifted out of John's arms by several nurses, who rushed him inside with barely a word.

* * *

It was over two hours of anxiously waiting in the oncology family area for the two older members of the Winchester family, before a young doctor approached them. "Hello, I'm Dr Smyth, the resident on duty tonight. Are you Samuel Winchester's family?" The doctor questioned John, and consequently Dean.

The weary pair stood up as John told the doctor. "Yeah, I'm his father, John, and this is his brother, Dean. How is he? Can we see him?"

"I'll take you back in a minute. He's very sick at the moment though, we're still waiting to get the blood work and spinal tap results back, but it looks like an infection. The chemotherapy weakened his immune system, a side effect that is very common, it really can't be avoided, but it meant that when he picked up this bug, which is most likely no more than a cold to most people, his body couldn't fight it, and that's why he's gotten so sick. We've started him on antibiotics and fluids, and hopefully he will start responding in the next few hours."

"So he'll be okay, that's what you're saying, right doc?" Dean asked, daring to let a note of hope creep into his voice.

The doctor paused, sighing before he told them. "As I said, in a healthy person, this probably would be no more than a cold, but for an immunocompromised person, like Sam, even a cold is life threatening."

Dean's face fell, along with John's, as Dr Smyth continued.

"But we are going to do everything we can."

* * *

Hours later Sam was still yet to respond to the medications being pumped into his body. John had gone in search of coffee, while Dean remained at his brother's side.

Dean was bordering on desperation as he leaned closer to Sam's too pale and so weak form. "Damn it, Sammy. Please wake up, you can't let this thing beat you so easily, it's just a cold. You're a Winchester, you can fight this, please fight this, Sammy."

Sam didn't respond, not so much as a twitch, and if it wasn't for the rise and fall of his chest and the steady rhythm on the heart monitor, Dean would've doubted that his brother was even alive.

"Please Sammy, please fight." Dean said brokenly, laying his head down on the bedding by Sam's hand, unable to stop the tears that streamed down, soaking the blankets under his face.

* * *

It was another five, unimaginably long hours before Sam finally started to improve, to wake up. But the happy moment it should have been was quickly overshadowed when Sam ran a weary hand through his too long hair, only to discover that he'd pulled away a sizeable chunk of hair.

Dean didn't notice at first, staring absentmindedly out the window.

"Dean."

The soft, unmistakably devastated voice of his younger brother drew him to turn to face Sam, he was forced to push back the nauseous feeling that came up as he saw the dark brown locks of hair in his brother's hand. _Not now, why'd this have to happen now?! Can't he just catch a break, just for a little while!?!_

Wordlessly, Dean moved closer to Sam, and drew him into a tight hug as he told him. "It doesn't matter, Sam. It's okay."

Sam didn't believe him for a second, but too exhausted to do anything else, he just leaned into the hug, and took all the comfort he could from Dean, chick flick moment be damned.

* * *

And then, several hours later, Dean, who had only left the room briefly, to get something to eat on Sam's insistence, returned to the room to find Sam, not surprisingly lying in his bed, also not surprisingly still too fatigued to even move, but surprisingly is that he is holding onto his phone, which Dean didn't even remember leaving in his reach as though it was a lifebuoy and he was drowning.

Forlornly Sam looked up at Dean, and told him. "She hasn't even called me."

_Where'd this come from? Aren't we dealing with enough already, why's he finding something else to upset himself?_ Dean looked at Sam with a puzzled expression, he asked. "Who?"

"Chloe." Sam answered with a distressed note in his voice, he then added. "I sent her a message, to let her know I was here, and she hasn't called… I thought she cared, but since I got sick…"

_You're better off without her, you're just lucky you don't know what she's been doing behind your back. _Dean thought bitterly before he told his brother. "Her phone must've died, I'm sure she'll call you soon." _I'm going to make sure of that, you deserve better than this damn silent treatment, and I'm going to make sure that bitch knows it._

* * *

**TBC...**

**Thanks for reading! Please review!**

**I'd really love to get some ideas from people as to what they want to see, it'll help me get the next chapter up sooner. Please!**

**And as always, suggestions and CONSTRUCTIVE criticism is welcome, feel free to put them in a review or PM.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, or the characters, and chances are that I never will.**

**Thanks so much to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter!**

**Please let me know what you think!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

The rest of the day was a non event; Dean had to leave to do some things, namely groceries; that was one thing he hated about being somewhat settled, not getting takeaway every other meal. John remained away, working at the garage. And Sam stayed in his room, stuck in bed, with only a visit from DR Harris, and the stream of nurses to break up the monotony, until late into the afternoon, just after the delivery of the very dubious looking dinner tray, when there was a faint knock on the door of Sam's room. "Come in." Sam called out tiredly, and as the door opened, he was surprised to see Marshall standing in the doorway. He didn't think any of his friends still wanted to be around him.

"Hey Sam, how're you doing?" Marshall asked nervously, clearly uncomfortable, but it still meant the world to Sam that he was even trying.

As Sam tried to sit up a bit more in the bed, he replied. "I feel like shit, man. Honestly. I don't think I could even stand up right now."

"That sucks." Marshall said empathetically, or at least as much so as a teenage boy can. "How long are they planning on keeping you here? Are you gonna be coming back to school soon?"

Noticing that Marshall was still standing in the doorway, Sam motioned to a chair Dean had left at the bedside as he said. "Come sit down, Marsh. You won't catch anything, I swear." And when he saw Marshall moving towards the previously mentioned seat, Sam proceeded to answer his questions. "My doctor came around earlier, she said I can go home in a couple of days, for all the difference that'll make." Seeing Marshall's confused expression, Sam elaborated. "My brother, Dean, he barely let me out of his sight while I was home, let alone do anything by myself."

Marshall smiled at the thought, before he told Sam. "My older sister's the same, everytime anyone is sick or hurt she waits on them hand and foot for weeks, drives us crazy." He then repeated his previous question. "And what about school?"

"Basically, without going into a ton of boring medical stuff, when I feel up to it, and my doctor approves it, which she said she won't do until she thinks I'm up to it, and it won't put me back here …I might be back for a couple of days before the next round of treatment, which is in ten days, possibly." Sam informed his friend, before he took a turn being the one asking questions. "Anyway what's been happening? Has Chloe said…" He then trailed off, and Marshall sympathetically told him.

"I'm sorry to say this, man, I thought she would've told you. She's hooked up with Brett Harding, from the football team."

Sam was silent for a long time, minutes at least, before he emotionlessly said "It's okay, she hasn't coping, it's not a surprise."

"You sure, Sam?"

"Yeah really, Marsh, it's okay." Sam said with more strength in his voice than he was feeling.

Then, eager to change the subject, Marshall looked over at the meal tray left as far from the bed as Sam could move it, and asked. "Is that really meant to be food, Sam? Because it doesn't look a thing like anything I've ever seen."

Welcoming the diversion, Sam laughed as he replied. "I dunno, man. All I know is that I'm not touching it, the smell's bad enough."

"Yeah." Marshall agreed before he offered Sam. "Do you want me to go find you something better? Maybe there's a machine around here somewhere."

"It's okay, Marsh. My Dad's going to get here soon, he said he'd get me a burger or something. Thanks for the offer." Sam told his friend before a thought struck him, and he asked. "How'd you know I was here anyway? I sent a message to Chloe, but no one else. I mean, I'm glad you came, but how'd you know?"

Marshall was silent for a long moment before he told Sam. "Ms Calla told us in homeroom."

_Everyone at school must know what's going on. I don't need that, that's the last thing I need._

* * *

Marshall left not long after that, and just minutes after his departure, true to Sam's word, John arrived with a takeaway bag in hand. "Heya Sam. Brought you some-"

No sooner did the strong odour of the greasy cheeseburger in the bag hit Sam's nose, than Sam was grabbing for the nearest basin as he started retching.

John sighed, he was rapidly becoming all too familiar with this scenario. He took the food outside, leaving it at the door before moving to his son's side. "Sorry, Sam. It'll be alright, son, just breathe. It'll pass." John continued to offer Sam words of comfort that sounded empty, even to himself, as he rubbed slow circles on his back until the nausea passed.

* * *

In the end it was Dean who brought Sam his dinner that night, arriving not long after his father, with a packet of Sao crackers and a couple of cans of ginger ale in hand, they'd been staple foods for Sam for days, and Dean had been there to see that.

* * *

"Morning, Sam." Dean greeted his brother as he stumbled into the kitchen in the early hours of the morning; the bulky cast on his leg was not helping him by any means. It has been six days since Sam was admitted to the hospital and four since he was released from hospital.

"Morning." Sam mumbled as he sat down at the table as Dean placed a bowl of cold cornflakes in front of him. "Thanks, Dean."

Then as Dean got his own breakfast, he asked Sam. "Are you sure you're feeling up to going to school today? Maybe you should just take the time to rest before the next round starts?"

"I'm okay, Dean. I want to go, and besides I'll have my phone, and the teachers all know what's going on, so if I can't manage, I'll just call you to pick me up." Sam said as he ran his hand gently through his thinned hair, already thinking about how he was going to cover it; he was still working his way up to getting it cut, even though he knew that it was inevitable.

Dean sighed, and bit into his toast, before he replied. "Fine. Let me know when you're ready, and I'll drive you."

* * *

**TBC...**

**Thanks for reading! Please review!**

**Okay, so Sam's going back to school, his girlfriend's left him, he barely has any friend's left, basically his 'normal' life is in tatters, oh and to add to that he's going through chemo. This is going to be interesting.**

**I'd really love to get some ideas from people as to what they want to see, it'll help me get the next chapter up sooner. Please!**

**And as always, suggestions and CONSTRUCTIVE criticism is welcome, feel free to put them in a review or PM.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, or the characters, and chances are that I never will.**

**Thanks so much to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter!**

**Please let me know what you think!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Sam had called Marshall on his way to school, and he was waiting at the kerb when Dean stopped the car. Sam checked that the beanie he'd settled for wearing to hide his thinning hair was firmly in place before he stepped out of the car, and said goodbye to Dean before he greeted Marshall. "Hey, thanks for waiting, I know I'm late."

"No problem, man. How're you doing?"  
"Alright, I guess." Sam replied as he moved to get his bag from the backseat, only to be stopped by Marshall.

"I'll get it, Sam." Marshall said as he sidestepped Sam, opened the back door of the impala, and picked up Sam's bag.

Sam made a brief attempt to argue, but Marshall stopped him by saying. "It's no problem, Sam. Let's get to class."

* * *

Sam walked into Ms Calla's homeroom, closely followed by Marshall a minute later, and as soon as he pushed the door open, the room, previously buzzing with activity fell completely silent, chalk being scraped on the board was the only sound remaining, and even that stopped a moment later as the teacher turned to face Sam as she said. "Sam, it's good to have you back. Take your seat."

Despite Ms Calla's attempt to minimise the awkwardness of the situation, for the rest of the class Sam could practically feel the stares and he definitely could hear the whispers surrounding him.

* * *

And it didn't stop in the classroom, as Sam and Marshall moved towards their next class, they passed several others from their group of 'friends', they slowed down, almost stopping as they passed, and as seemed to be the fashion now, what was an engaging conversation came to an abrupt halt.

Marshall stepped closer to Sam, and in a hushed whisper, he said. "Forget them, Sam. If they don't stick by you when you're sick, then they're not worth it." He made sure to put an emphasis on the last words, ensuring that the small group heard him.

* * *

If you thought it could not be any worse, you would have been wrong. Just after the last bell of the day, Sam was walking towards the carpark, where he knew Dean would be waiting, he noticed Chloe around the side of the building, too engrossed by whatever her new boyfriend was telling her, to notice Sam. He could practically feel his heart break as she leaned closer to the well built football player, and drew him into a passion filled kiss.

Sighing wearily, Sam continued on his way, and as he swung open the door of the Impala, and collapsed into the front seat, he barely even heard Dean asking. "How was your day, Sam?"

* * *

But as bad as the first day was, it got better the next day, when Sam, who was feeling stronger than the previous day, walked into homeroom, and instead of meekly taking his seat as the room went silent, he moved to the front of the room. He didn't even need to wait to get the class' attention, he already had all eyes on him.

Sam hesitated, didn't know why this was so difficult for him, he'd faced off against monsters since age ten, why was telling this group of high school students what was wrong with him, answering the questions he knew they'd have, so much harder than that? Simple he didn't really care about hunting, what he cared about was ultimately being normal, and what he was about to do was going to put that so far out of his reach.

But still, taking a deep breathe, Sam steeled himself, and said. "A few weeks ago when I broke my leg at soccer, the doctors found out that I had cancer. I've been away, and I'll be away a lot of the time for at least a few months, so I could and can have treatments." Sam paused, looking over at Marshall, who offered a small smile, he had spoken to Sam earlier, and knew what Sam was doing. Sam pulled off the beanie he was wearing, showing his formerly long hair, of which now there were only small tufts remaining. "The chemo they're giving me is making my hair fall out, it also makes me tired and sick." Ignoring the shocked expressions on both his teacher's and the class' faces, Sam finished. "Now, I just want to come into school when I'm up to it, and the last thing I need is for you all to be talking about me behind my back. If you have any questions, ask them now."

It took a second for the shock to wear off, but once it did everyone started asking Sam every question they could think of, and to the best of his ability he answered each one.

And from there he was actually surprised at how the attitude of the majority of the student body improves afterwards, instead of turning away when Sam walked past, they'd stop him, and talk to him, ask questions, offer help carrying his books to classes, tell stories of people they'd known who had cancer. Even some other members of their group came back, and while Sam let them back into his life, he didn't let himself get set up for disappointment when the next disaster hits and they back off again.

* * *

By the end of the day he was feeling stronger than he had been since he'd been diagnosed, bolstered by the support that now surrounded him. And as he sat down for dinner with Dean and their father, and was feeling well enough to actually eat the meal, instead of running for the bathroom at the mere smell, it was good.

* * *

In a contrast, just over an hour later, Sam asked Dean to help him shave off what was left of his hair, and Sam was sitting in one of the dining room chairs that Dean had moved into the bathroom, one of the many old bedsheets they'd found when they moved in, draped over his shoulders, he was all ready, when Dean did something that Sam never saw coming, as Dean plugged in the clippers, and switched them on, instead of moving towards Sam, he raised the clippers to his own head, and with a goofy grin plastered on his face, he shaved away a considerable section of his own hair.

Sam nearly jumped out of the seat in shock. "Dean!? What the hell are you doing?!"

Flicking off the clippers, Dean answered Sam jokingly. "I thought it'd be a good look, don't you?"

Sam scowled at Dean, still shocked, but starting to see what Dean's up to; he's trying to be supportive, and he's doing a pretty awesome job of it. Sam stared at the now cropped patch of Dean's hair, trying to maintain his angry expression, but within seconds he was wearing a matching grin, as he held his hand out towards the clippers, as with a laugh, he said. "It's a different look, that's for sure. You'd probably better not be planning to leave it like that. You want me to finish it for you?"

* * *

An hour later when the pair emerged from the bathroom, sporting matching shaven heads, John looked up from where he was sitting at the table, going over some research Bobby had sent him, not knowing their present situation, and upon seeing his sons, his jaw nearly hit the floor. "Dean? What did you-"

Dean stopped him before he could finish his sentence. He ran a hand over his cropped hair, as he jokingly said. "What do you think, Dad? Still gonna be a hit with the ladies?"

John just shook his head, he too falling for the infectiously good mood Dean's mysteriously found in this horrible moment.

* * *

**TBC...**

**Thanks for reading! Please review!**

**I'd really love to get some ideas from people as to what they want to see. Do you want to see more brotherly moments? More sick Sam? More angst? A bit of everything?**

**And as always, suggestions and CONSTRUCTIVE criticism are welcome, feel free to put them in a review or PM.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, or the characters, and chances are that I never will.**

**Thanks so much to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter!**

**Please let me know what you think!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Two days later, just as Dean was gathering everything up that he and Sam would need while they were at the hospital for Sam's chemo session that day, the phone rang. John had said that he'd left a message for Bobby to give him a call about the case he'd sent, so despite his haste, Dean answered. "Yeah?"

To his surprise the voice on the other end was female. "Hi Dean. It's Chloe, is Sam around? I really wanted to talk to him."

Dean paused for a moment, did he really want to chance that she'd hurt Sam again? No way. "I'll give him a message, we've got to go out." Not a complete lie, they were going out.

"…Can you please just tell him I'm sorry, and I didn't mean to hurt him? Please." Chloe replied before hanging up, not giving Dean a chance to say no.

Sam walked into the room a moment later, wearing a his school tracksuit and a plain black bandanna Dean had bought him. He immediately questioned Dean, seeing him looking at the phone, zoned out. "You alright, Dean? Who was on the phone?"

After a long moment, Dean looked up at Sam as he replied. "That was Chloe."

"And?" Sam said, pressing his brother for details, just curious as to why she would call.

"I guess she was feeling guilty or something. Wanted to tell you that she's sorry, apparently she didn't mean to hurt you." Dean laughed before he added. "Like I believe that for a second, you're better off without her, Sammy."

Sam was silent for a moment before he told Dean. "We're going to be late, we can talk later." He then started moving towards the door, only to turn back and tell Dean. "You'd better have something good to do, this'll take all day."

* * *

By the time they arrived at the outpatient clinic, the waiting room was already a bustling hive of activity, and seeing that they would be waiting in line for a while, Dean pointed out a chair to Sam, and said. "Go sit down, I'll get the paperwork stuff sorted out, Sam. You're not meant to be standing on that leg all day."

Sam mumbled something, uncomplimentary, but in an affectionate way, before he walked over to the seating area.

* * *

The line moved faster than Dean had anticipated, and a minute later he moved up to an available window, where he was greeted by the receptionist. "Hi, how can I help you?"

Dean leaned on the counter, almost automatically eyeing up the young woman as he told her. "My brother's got an appointment to have chemo today."

"Okay, what's his name?" She asked, hands at the ready on her keyboard.

"Sam, Samuel Winchester." Dean answered, before glancing back over to where Sam was sitting, just checking.

A moment later the receptionist told Dean. "Okay, this is his first time here, right?"

"Yeah. Why?"

The receptionist swivelled in her seat, and grabbed some pamphlets and a clipboard which she handed to Dean. "I just need you to fill this out, and these have some useful information, phone numbers, that sort of thing. Just bring the form back up here when you've filled it out, and then Sam's nurse will be down to take Sam to get some blood tests done, and then he'll be taken into the infusion room. Okay?"

"Okay. I'll be able to stay with him, right?"

The receptionist smiled warmly at Dean as she replied. "For sure."

"Thanks." Dean said genuinely as he returned her smile before moving towards where Sam was sitting.

* * *

It was another half hour before Josie appeared, and came over to greet the pair. "Good morning, Sam. Dean." She smiled privately as she noticed Dean's new crew cut. _Just more proof of how far he'd go for his brother. Give's you hope there's still nice guys in this awful world. _"Are you ready to get started?"

"Sure." Sam said with a sigh as he heaved himself out of the uncomfortable chair, and followed Josie through the doors that led to the treatment area, with Dean close at his heels.

* * *

Josie led them into a large room, curtained cubicles lining the walls, some had the curtains drawn, others had people in them, but they'd left the curtain open, some were empty. Josie took them over to an empty one, and motioned for Sam to get onto the bed as she moved to bring a tray laden with supplied as she said. "We're just going to run some blood tests, Sam. Check that your cell counts are back up after the last round, and then we'll access your port, get the meds started, and then finally I'll take you through to the infusion room."

Everything goes blissfully simply, and twenty minutes later Josie led Sam, who was now pulling an IV standing holding several bags of solution behind him, and Dean into the infusion room.

The infusion room looked much like the last room. It was already almost full, there were only a couple of patient seats available, all the rest were occupied by children, some young, some teenagers, even some babies being held by their parents.

Some kids were talking to their parents; others were playing with toys, reading books, doing homework, listening to music, resting.

Some kids still had their hair; others wore wigs, hats, or bandannas.

They were all different, doing different things, but the one thing that linked them together was, along with the illness they suffered, was the same fatigued, bored expression that they wore, all just wanting to be done.

As Sam sat down in the last chair in the row, and Josie moved to put his IV stand out of the way, and do other nursing duties, the girl sitting in the seat next to Sam's introduced herself. She was probably about fifteen, maybe a bit older, wearing a plain white dress and a pink jumper, oh and a pink tie-dyed bandanna, she was pretty, in spite of being far too thin and very pale. Unlike most of the other kids, she was alone. "Hi, I'm Sandy."  
"Sam. This is my brother, Dean." Sam told her, offering her a smile.  
"I haven't seen you here before, first time?" Sandy asked knowingly as she looked at Sam, and then Dean, appraising them.

"Yeah." Sam replied with a nervous laugh. "What gave it away?"

"There's a look, when someone comes back here for the first time, when you've been around here as long as I have, well you notice things like that." She paused, before telling Sam. "I've got AML, I've been in and out of here since I was two. How about you?"

Sam settled further into the seat as he told her. "Osteosarcoma. Found out when I snapped my leg at soccer a month ago."

"Soccer player, nice." Sandy said, almost to herself. She then asked. "What school are you at? I'm out sick a lot, but I usually hear about new kids …especially the hot ones."  
_This girl is kind of shameless. _Dean thought to himself as he watched his younger brother talk to the cute girl from his seat on Sam's other side.

Sam self-consciously put a hand to the bandanna covering his almost bald head, as he answered her. "I'm at North Kansas High."

"Oh that'd be it, I'm at Blue Springs." Sandy told Sam, she then decided that Sam needed something explained to him, and she took it on herself to do it. "Okay, you can stop being all self conscious, look around you, everyone here is in the same boat, or whatever. I've only got this on today because I came straight from spending the night at my friend's place." She pulled the bandanna off her head, revealing her head, completely bald, and stuffed the bandanna into her backpack. "You're the only one here who even noticed that. Tell him Jose, I bet he looks smoking no matter what he's got on, or not."

Josie stepped forward from where she was working at Sam's IV, double checking the labels. She laughed openly as she told Sam. "Even though Sandy is pretty much the least self conscious person we've got here, and making very inappropriate comments" She looked pointedly as Sandy, but her glare had no harshness behind it "she's got a point. This is pretty much the only place where you can get away with anything. Everyone else is too busy thinking about themselves to notice what you're doing, trust me."

"And you are very cute." Sandy added, before she said. "I'm going to be here for another eight hours, how about a game of cards? Poker maybe?"

"Sounds good to me." Dean piped up, as he stood up, and moved over to an empty chair between the two, shifting a table at the same time.

"Why not, I've got so much else to do." Sam joked as he moved in his seat to reach the cards.

As Sandy picked up her backpack, and pulled out some cards which she handed to Dean to shuffle, she very seriously told them. "I do have one rule for here."  
"What's that?" Sam and Dean asked in almost perfect unison.

Sandy then said in the same serious tone. "Absolutely no talking shop after introductions, trust me it doesn't help the time go any faster, or make you feel better. And I go first." She finished with a laugh.

Her confidence made Sam feel better, less like a fish out of water. And within minutes they were so engrossed in their game, that the small group had pushed the reason for being there to the farthest point in their minds.

* * *

**TBC...**

**Thanks for reading! Please review!**

**I know this is going to be a very long fic, but I really appreciate everyone's continued feedback! So please keep up the awesome reviews and support.**

**And as always, suggestions and CONSTRUCTIVE criticism are welcome, feel free to put them in a review or PM.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, or the characters, and chances are that I never will.**

**Thanks so much to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter!**

**Please let me know what you think!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Sam and Dean left the hospital nine long hours after arriving, with Sandy's number and an invitation to call anytime. It made the fact that Sam could barely move without heaving considerably less awful. She'd been sick for years, and she still could laugh about it, it compelled Sam to at least try to stay positive about the whole situation.

* * *

When they got home, John was waiting for them, Dean really, and once Dean had helped Sam get settled into bed, he joined his father in the living room.

"How'd today go? How's Sam feeling?" John asked with genuine concern for his youngest, just because he couldn't be there didn't mean that he didn't want to be.

"He's nauseous; I've given him his pills, and set him up in his room. Our boy bounces back fast."

That comment surprised John, and he looked up at his son questioningly.

"He met a girl there, Sandy. I don't think we've heard the last of her." Dean told him, as he collapsed into the empty seat beside his father.  
"Oh." John said, going silent for a moment for a moment before remembering what he wanted to speak to Dean about. "Bobby called me back earlier. I explained everything to him, and he's going to take the case, but… it's really a two person gig."

"You're leaving?" Dean questioned his father, no emotion in his voice. He had learned well how to mask his true feelings, which right now were out and out fury and disappointment.

There was another pause before John said. "Actually I was thinking that maybe you could go. I can take some personal days off work to be here with Sam, and Dean, I just think it would be good for you to take a break, you spend all your time looking after Sammy."

"But-" Dean started only to be cut off.

"I'm getting worried about you, kiddo, you're going to run yourself into the ground. You've heard what Sam's doctor said, this'll be going on for months …it's a marathon, not a sprint. So please, take a break, drive up to Minnesota, help Bobby out on this job, and then you can come straight back."

"Are you ordering me to go?" Dean asked, shell-shocked. His father might have a point, but does he really expect him to leave Sam?

John sighed, and rested a hand on Dean's shoulder as he told him. "I'm not going to force you to go, I wouldn't do that, not when Sam's sick. But I am asking you, please to do this, I'll stay with Sam, around the clock until you get back."

"I'll think about it." Dean replied slowly, too shocked at the dramatic turnaround in his father to say no outright. "I'm going to head to bed, I'll let you know in the morning, okay?"

"Sure, kiddo. See you in the morning." John said, and then as an afterthought he added. "What time does Sam need to be at the hospital?"

"Nine." Dean said before walking away towards the hallway which led to the bedrooms.

* * *

The next morning John was already sitting at the kitchen table, breakfast laid out for the small family when Sam and Dean emerged from their rooms. Late that night, between episodes of nausea and throwing up, Sam and Dean had spoken, and Sam had sided with their father. While he wanted Dean to stay with him, he too had seen how run down Dean was getting, and he thought that it might be for the best for Dean to take this hunt with Bobby.

It didn't take long for John to ask Dean. "I told Bobby I'd get back to him this morning, what've you decided, Dean? Will you go?"

There was a long pause, almost a minute before Dean answered. "Tell him I'll be there tonight. That is as long as you're good to take Sam to chemo today and tomorrow."

"I already called in to work, said I'd be away for a week or so. Ben was pretty good about it." John told him, offering a knowing smile in his eldest son's direction.

Dean turned to Sam, and asked him. "Are you sure you'll be alright here?"

"I'll be okay, Dean. It'll only be for a few days." _Even dad can't mess up that much that quickly._

* * *

Dean left later that morning, after sending John and Sam to the hospital for Sam's treatment. And almost as soon as Dean hit the highway, the impala tearing across the arid land, everything hit him, like a wave. The pain, the fear, the uncertainty.

He turned up the stereo, trying to block out the thoughts, the worries, but for once in his life, the music couldn't block it out, everything just kept hitting him.

All he could do was keep going, and hope it'd stop.

* * *

Back at the hospital, Josie had made sure that Sam was sitting next to Sandy, and the two were playing with a pack of cards, while John sat flicking through a magazine he'd found in the waiting room.

When Dr Harris stopped by, Sam stopped what he was doing, and John put down the magazine as she greeted them. "Good morning, Sam, John. How're you feeling today, Sam?"

"Pretty average, but the maxolon is helping. Why're you here?" Sam replied, sighing wearily.

"I was down here, I just thought I'd check in, see how you're going." Dr Harris said as she pulled the curtain around Sam's cubicle, and sat down in a chair beside Sam. "I've had a look at your latest blood work, and it looks like the infection didn't take too much out of you. And I just wanted to let you know what the plan is from here, after this round of chemo, we'll redo the scans, see if the tumour's shrunk, and depending on what we see, we'll either give you another round of chemo, then reassess, or we'll schedule you in for surgery."

"Okay, that's good I guess." Sam replied tiredly, he was starting to feel very drained, and sick.

"Okay, you should get some rest. I'll see you at our appointment, in a couple of week's time." Dr Harris said, standing up, and walking towards the exit.

As his doctor left, the feelings of sickness that had been coming on, suddenly became more than that, and Sam was reaching for the ever-present bucket once again.

* * *

Almost ten minutes later, as Sam leaned back against the seat, Sandy smiled softly as she told him. "I told you so; don't talk about the treatment during treatment."

* * *

**TBC...**

**Thanks for reading! Please review!**

**I hope that Dean leaving wasn't too OOC, but I'm trying to show more of John being a parent, and also what eveyone's feeling.**

**And as always, suggestions and CONSTRUCTIVE criticism are welcome, feel free to put them in a review or PM.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, or the characters, and chances are that I never will.**

**Thanks so much to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter!**

**This one is especially for bia1007 and MysteryMadchen, who asked for a Dean related crisis and some John and Sam scenes, respectively. I hope this works.**

**Please let me know what you think!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Dean arrived in Minnesota all too soon, and when he reached the prearranged meeting point, a run down motel on the outskirts of an even more run down town, Bobby's truck was already in the parking lot, and so Dean went straight to the room it was parked outside of, and knocked.

Bobby was sitting at the too small dining table, polishing his assortment of guns, when there was a knock on the door. He looked at his watch, he wasn't expecting Dean for another couple of hours, so he grabbed one of the only functioning guns, and holding it behind his back, he moved to the door, and swung it open.

He almost dropped the weapon upon seeing Dean. He'd seen Dean look bloodied, beaten, tired, but this was so much more, it wasn't so much the new hair style, which though it changed his appearance, didn't compare to the general way he was carrying himself. He looked defeated, exhausted, and not just physically.

There were dark, almost black smudges under his eyes, his shoulders were slumped, and he looked on the verge of collapse.

That in mind, Bobby stepped back to let Dean in as he greeted him. "Dean. It's good to see you, boy."

Dean headed straight for the closest bed as he replied. "Hey Bobby. Nice place you found."

"Only the best for you, your majesty" Bobby replied jokingly, before moving back towards the table as he said. "How 'bout you just crash for a while? I'll tell you about the case when you-"

Bobby was abruptly stopped when he heard a loud snore from Dean. He chuckled to himself before sitting down, and pulling out his phone and typing in John's number. He justified the call as just letting John know his boy had arrived safely, but really he wanted to, and did get some more details about Sam, trying to understand what had left Dean so worn out …and wrung John out for letting it happen, for not being there for both his sons.

* * *

Dean didn't wake up until well into the next morning, and after speaking to John, Bobby was in no hurry to wake him. Once he was awake, and had time to go find breakfast, and get himself together, Dean told Bobby. "Sorry about last night, Bobby. I just couldn't stay awake. But I'm feeling good now, so tell me about this case we're here for."

Bobby hesitated for a moment before he replied. "You sure you're up to hunting, Dean? I spoke to your daddy last night, and damn boy it's a hell of a mess you guys are in, 'specially Sam and you."  
"You spoke to Dad? Is Sam okay? Did he say anything about how yesterday went?" Dean practically jumped down Bobby throat seeking information on his brother.

Bobby put up a hand, signalling for Dean to calm down before he said. "Sam's doing fine, last I heard." He started, just to prevent Dean from jumping in the car and heading back. "Like I said, hell of a mess you're in. I still don't really get it, but for whatever it's worth, your dad said that Sam had his treatment yesterday, and he was feeling sick, but they'd spoken to his doc, who said that the treatment is working. For what that's worth."

Given how Dean slumped in relief upon hearing that information, Bobby figured it was worth a lot, and after long silence, Dean looked back up at the older hunter, and asked. "So about this job."

Bobby couldn't help but chuckle before he motioned Dean over to the table, where he had all the research he'd gathered spread out, and told him. "This is what I've got so far. At first I was looking at just one wendigo, but the timing of some of the attacks didn't fit, and now it looks like there're at least two of them out there. Didn't really want to take that on solo, no one in their right mind would."

Dean's eyes widened slightly as he took in the information. This would not be an easy gig. But still a moment later he replied. "Okay, so what's the plan? Hike out, and try to get this done before nightfall?"

"If you're up for it." Bobby said pointedly, he knew that having a hunter with him who wasn't up to it was worse than not having anyone.

"I'm fine." Dean replied a little too quickly, but Bobby let it go, and proceeded to discuss the details of the job with Dean.

* * *

Meanwhile back in Kansas, Sam was finally resting, after a very long, sleepless night, and John was trying to catch up on the sleep he'd missed in the night, with no success. As he was lying in his bed, struggling not to break down, he just couldn't stop going over everything in his head, being the sole person caring for Sam, he only now realised fully what was happening.

He had sat for hours watching as toxic drugs were pumped into his son's body, and he'd been there as his body had started to revolt against the drugs, it had only stopped minutes ago, after close to fifteen hours of hell.

Until now John just hadn't seen what this treatment was doing to his baby boy.

He never had even considered it would be this bad. He thought that maybe Sam would be a bit sick for a little while, but this was so much worse than that, it was so bad and it just kept going until Sam had passed out from sheer exhaustion.

And as John's thoughts were rushing through his head, one in particular kept coming back to him. _Why'd this have to happen to us? Haven't we been through enough already?_

And to that question, John had no answer.

* * *

Later that day, not long before sundown, Bobby and Dean were walking through the dense woodlands, a deep gorge running alongside. Then the woods went deathly silent, and before they so much as had a chance to realise what was happening, they were attacked from behind, and Dean found himself being thrown violently off the path, into the ravine.

"DEAN!!!"

* * *

**TBC...**

**Okay, I'm just going to start running now, before you all come after me. I swear I do have a plan, I promise!**

**Thanks for reading! Please review!**

**And as always, suggestions and CONSTRUCTIVE criticism are welcome, feel free to put them in a review or PM.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, or the characters, and chances are that I never will.**

**Thanks so much to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter!**

**Please let me know what you think!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

The first thing Dean was aware of was falling, it seemed like he'd never stop, but then as suddenly as his descent through the rough terrain had begun, it ended as he hit a ledge with a thud.

He lay there, for a moment, trying to assess how badly he was injured. _Chest hurts… at least a couple of broken ribs. Still conscious, so probably no concussion._ He shifted slightly, and swore not too quietly as pain tore through him. _Okay, that is not good. Not going to be moving again. Probably bleeding internally. _He noticed a wetness seeping through his shirt. _Maybe externally too._ And to add to it his torture it felt like he probably had broken his pelvis too… Hold that, his arm as well, almost certainly.

* * *

Unaware of Dean's rapidly deteriorating condition, Bobby was busily trying to take down the wendigo, which as it turned out there was only one of. He was being knocked in every direction, but somehow he managed to fire off a shot from the flare gun he was carrying, which hit the beast straight in the heart.

The creature howled as it was engulfed by flames, but Bobby however took in celebration in his victory as he realised that Dean was no where in sight.

"DEAN!" Bobby called out at the top of his lungs, he wrapped his arm around his chest as he felt pain shoot through his body, from bruised if not broken ribs.

Still there was no response from Dean. Bobby took off as fast as his abused body could manage towards where he'd last seen the young hunter, and it only took a moment for him to realise what had happened, as he saw the trail of destruction going from the edge of the path, down the steep descent. _Oh shit! Dean, please tell me you aren't down there somewhere._ Bobby pulled out his phone, and dialled 911 as he peered over the edge. "Ambulance…Minnesota state park…hiking trip…he fell…I don't know, I can't see him…no…please you gotta hurry."

After being assured that a rescue helicopter was one the way, Bobby shoved his phone back into the bag he was carrying, and left it on the path, as he began to try and navigate his way down the slope. He could see a ledge about forty feet down below him, and it looked like there was something there, maybe a person, maybe a rock, he really couldn't tell, but it was the best shot he had.

* * *

Almost ten minutes of precarious climbing later, Bobby was almost to the ledge, but he still didn't have a clear view of what was there. He just had to keep moving, and pray that he'd find Dean, and at the same time hope that when he did find him he wouldn't be too badly injured, but in the back of his mind he knew how long of a drop this was, and that there was a chance that when he got there, even if it was Dean, he might not be alive.

* * *

Speaking of Dean, he was now starting to drift in and out of consciousness, he knew he was losing too much blood, he knew he couldn't hold on much longer.

He was more than beginning to give up hope of being found, when he heard a voice, seemingly a great distance away, but he wasn't sure. "Dean! Hold on, I'm coming." It was Bobby, even in his weakened state, Dean could tell that. And knowing that Bobby would be there soon, he tried harder to stay awake, but as hard as he tried, Dean couldn't keep his eyes open, he couldn't stay focused on anything.

_I'm dying. I'm going to die out here, alone._

_Why'd I come here in the first place?_

_I should've stayed with Sammy._

_Sammy._

_What'll happen to him when he finds out that I'm not coming home?_

_He's so sick, this is too much, he won't survive._

That thought made Dean try even harder to hold on, even if he was in so much pain, and everything was trying to pull him under, Dean knew he had to stay awake.

* * *

It was only another minute before Bobby reached John Winchester's eldest son, by the time Bobby got through the dense shrubbery, he was certain that he wouldn't find Dean alive, but as Dean's bloodied, scraped body came into his full view, despite his horror at the sight, Bobby was relieved as he saw that Dean's chest was still moving, he was alive.

Renewed by the fact that Dean was still holding on, Bobby rushed to his side, and as he knelt beside him, feeling for a pulse, Bobby worriedly tried to get a response from Dean. "Hey, kiddo. I'm here now, and there's a 'copter on the way. Come on, Dean, look at me. Tell me what hurts."

There was a long pause before Dean's head turned slowly towards Bobby, and his eyes opened weakly, he seemed dazed, confused.

For a moment Bobby was silent, but then he forced himself to just focus on the task at hand, and try not to think about the what ifs. "It's okay, Dean. I'm just going to check you over, just hang in there."

Dean was in no shape to answer, that much was clear to Bobby, and it only became clearer as he began to examine him. Dean was covered in scrapes and bruises, but more worryingly the bones in his arm had broken through the skin, and there was a sizable wound on the side of his chest, which to his horror had a by no means small tree branch impaled through it, and there was blood seeping out from around it, and Bobby knew better than to think that that was all the injuries Dean had sustained.

That's when he heard the helicopter over head, it came up quickly, one minute there was silence, the next the roar of a helicopter directly above was unmistakable.

_Are they going to find us down here?_ The thought suddenly came to Bobby, he looked around briefly, trying to find a way to signal the helicopter. _Bingo._ Bobby thought as he noticed the flare gun Dean had been carrying, he reached for it, and fired it straight into the air, before turning back to Dean. "Just another minute, Dean. Just hang on."

Within seconds a medic was repelling from the helicopter towards the pair. As soon as he hit the ground, the medic ran over to them, and spoke to Bobby. "Hey, I'm Matt, what happened here?"

"We were hiking." Bobby lied easily. "Dean fell, I can't wake him up."

Matt moved to Dean's other side, and started to assess and treat him as he asked. "Are you his dad?"

"No, I'm his… I'm his uncle. His dad's at home with his brother, he's been having chemo. Is Dean going to be alright? This family…" Bobby said, trailing off with a shake of his head.

"He's in pretty bad shape, we'll have to airlift him to the hospital. But I think he'll pull through." Even as Matt said this, Dean was starting to come around, probably from the fluids that were being pumped into his body as rapidly as possible.

* * *

Thirty minutes later the helicopter landed at Regions Hospital, St Paul, and Dean was rushed inside, he had remained unconscious through the flight, but the medics had assured Bobby that he was stable, and while his condition was critical, it looked like he would pull through.

As Dean was rushed into the trauma room, Bobby was forced into the waiting room, it was only then that he remembered he'd left his bag, and subsequently his phone in the woods. "Damn it." Bobby swore softly, under his breath. He had to call John, let him know what had happened.

* * *

Meanwhile in the trauma room, several nurses and a doctor were working busily on Dean. "What did the medics say happened to this guy?" One of the nurses asked as she cut away Dean's blood soaked clothing.  
"He was hiking out in Moose Lake Park with his uncle, fell forty feet down a ravine. Guy's lucky to be alive" Another nurse responded.

They continued to talk amongst themselves as they worked, until the doctor said. "That's enough ladies. I'm sure this guy would appreciate your full attention, and while he's got your attention, he's going to need a full set of trauma labs and scans, and get someone from surgery and ortho down here, he's going to have to go to the OR."

* * *

A minute later the two specialists burst into the room, one shortly after the other, and upon being asked what they were needed for, the first doctor told them. "Dr Pine, Dr Wong, this is Dean Winchester, blunt trauma to the chest, pelvis, and left forearm. GCS is twelve, LOC from hypovolemic shock, no apparent signs of head trauma, but we're going to get a CT. We've put in a central line, and a chest tube, and he's been given two bags of normal saline, six units of blood, and twenty milligrams of morphine."

Dr Pine, the trauma surgeon asked. "What are his injuries?"

"Punctured right lung, open chest wound with a foreign body, tree branch which we think hit the aorta, multiple rib fractures, obvious fractured left forearm, and a probable fractured pelvis. He's stable for now, but if that branch shifts, that could change fast.

* * *

Completely unaware of his eldest son's predicament, John was sitting in front of the TV watching a movie with Sam, who thanks to a change in his anti nausea meds was finally feeling a bit better, given the fact that he'd been getting chemo pumped into his body for three days now.

They were laughing at the movie, when the phone rang. Sam was beside the phone, and he answered it. "Hello."

"…Sam, it's Bobby. Is your Dad there?"

"What happened?" Sam asked, immediately feeling a sense of dread fill him.

John was quick to turn to his son, and demand. "Give me the phone, Sam."

"Bobby, please. What happened? Is Dean okay?" Sam said, not making any move to hand to phone over.

"Sam, there's been an accident."

* * *

**TBC...**

**Thanks for reading! Please review!**

**And as always, suggestions and CONSTRUCTIVE criticism are welcome, feel free to put them in a review or PM.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, or the characters, and chances are that I never will.**

**Thanks so much to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter!**

**Please let me know what you think!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

As soon as he'd heard those words "there's been an accident", Sam dropped the phone. John picked up the phone as he placed a hand on his younger son's trembling shoulder. "Bobby. It's John. What happened?"

"The hunt went bad, John. "I'm sorry. Dean's in the ER at Regions Hospital in St Paul, you need to get here as soon as you can."

"Oh my god." John whispered softly, before he proceeded to question Bobby on what had happened, and after getting the answers he needed, he hung up the phone, and turned back to Sam. "Dean's been hurt pretty bad, I have to get up to the hospital where he's being admitted. You can't travel, so you'll have to stay here, hopefully he'll be able to be moved back here in a day or two, and if you need anything there are people around, neighbours and all that, and you know what numbers to call if something happens."

"No way, Dad." Sam stubbornly told his father. There was no way in hell he was going to be left here while his brother was in hospital, badly hurt, two states away. It didn't matter how sick and tired and weak he felt, he knew he had to be there. "I'm coming with you."

John was silent for a minute as he moved around from room to room gathering up everything he'd need, before he caved. "Fine, Sam. But you have to take it easy, and tell me if you're not feeling good. And you have to wear a mask, we can't risk you catching something when we're at the hospital. Deal?"

"Deal." Sam agreed without hesitation, despite his hatred of wearing the very unattractive mask, it was more important to be with his brother. He then lifted himself off the couch, and headed towards his room to pack.

* * *

Three hours later, John and Sam were on a plane on the way to Minnesota, the drive would take too long, and John was figuring that they'd have to bring the Impala back and Dean may not be able to drive.

* * *

By the time John and Sam arrived at Regions Hospital, and asked where to find Dean, he'd been into and out of surgery, and was awake in the ICU. They were escorted straight to his room, and as they rounded the corner, they saw Bobby sitting in the corner of the room, flicking through an old magazine.

"Bobby." John said quietly, not wanting to disturb Dean, who was resting in the bed, his bed was surrounded by medical equipment, his face was marred by numerous deep scratches, and there was a fresh white plaster cast encasing his left arm from his fingers to just below his elbow, but apart from that, he looked pretty good, considering.

Bobby turned towards the doorway, and was silent for a moment, shocked as he noticed the condition Sam was in, in the rush they hadn't brought any bandannas or beanies, so his now completely bald head was obvious, along with the fact that he was wearing a surgical mask, and looked like he was about to collapse. Bobby quickly stood up, and motioned for Sam to take the seat he'd vacated, which Sam did silently as Bobby moved to meet John. "I'm sorry, John. It was a routine hunt, I let the thing get the drop on us …If it's any consolation the docs were here a minute ago, they said Dean'll be fine, out of action for a few months, but he'll be okay. He's going to be mad as hell when he finds out that 'cos of the breaks in his pelvis, he's going to be spending the next few months in a wheelchair, but like I said, the docs think he'll be fine."

"Thanks for staying with him, Bobby. It means… thank you." John said genuinely as he moved over towards where Sam was sitting, and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It's a dangerous gig, this could've happened to anyone."

* * *

While Bobby and John were talking behind him, Sam paid no attention to them, as he was completely focused on Dean, who was seemingly sleeping soundly in the bed before him. "I'm sorry I wasn't here, Dean. But it's going to be okay, we'll be okay."

* * *

Dean had been resting, dosed on a number of pain meds, among other things, but as he heard his younger brother's voice, he forced himself to pull apart his eyelids. As he focuses in on his brother, he gladly, albeit groggily mumbled. "Sammy… you're here."

"Dean." Sam said, slightly surprised, but clearly relieved as he moved closer to Dean, and took hold of his uncasted hand. "How're you feeling?"  
Dean moaned in pain as he tried to find a more comfortable position, with little success. "Crap. What happened? It's all kinda a blur."

"You fell off a cliff, you idiot." Sam said, but there was no real harshness in his words, only concern. "You're pretty banged up, doctors say that you'll be in hospital for a few days, and off your feet for at least a couple of months."

Dean fell back against the bed. "Damn it." He swore not so softly. There was a long pause, his father and Bobby were out in the hallway, and Sam wasn't game to speak. In the end it was Dean who spoke first, as a thought occurred to him. "What're you doing here, Sam? Please tell me you didn't come all this way for me. Unless I've been out of it for a while, you've had chemo for the last three days. You shouldn't be in a hospital, you could catch something."

"Don't worry about me, Dean. I'm okay." Sam assured his brother as he moved into Dean's direct view, allowing him to see the precaution he was taking. "See, I'm wearing a mask. It'll be fine. Don't worry about me."

"I'm your brother, Sam, it's my job to worry about you."

"I'm your brother, Dean, it's my job to worry about you." Sam replied smartly, grinning at his brother, who for once was unable to come up with a reply.

* * *

Not long after John and Sam had arrived, John and Bobby decided to go find a motel, John had tried to get Sam to come with them, but even though he was still feeling like death warmed up since the chemo, Sam was adamant about staying with his brother. And only minutes after they'd left, Dr Pine stopped by to check on Dean. He was briefly taken aback when he saw Sam sitting at Dean's side; his patient's brother has cancer, some families just can't get any good luck. But he quickly masked his surprise as Dean, and then Sam looked up at him. He greeted the pair. "Hello, Dean. I'm Dr Pine, I was the one who operated on you earlier."

"Hey." Dean replied, he then nodded in Sam's direction as he said. "This is my brother, Sam." He then paused, before he asked. "So how'd it all go, doc?"

Dr Pine pulled a chair over to the other side of the bed from where Sam was seated, and he then replied. "The surgery went very smoothly, we repaired a number of injuries you sustained in the fall, and I expect that in two to three months you will be up and about."  
"Why?" Dean then asked the obvious question.

"You suffered a severe injury to your chest, which caused you to lose a large volume of blood, and you'll need to be careful of while it heals. And you also have a severe fracture in your pelvis, which is the main reason you'll be off your feet, we had to use some pins and plates to secure, and until that is reasonably well healed, you will need to be in a wheelchair, or you could reinjure yourself."

"Wheelchair? Oh damn it." Dean said with frustration in his voice. _How am I meant to take care of Sam if I'm stuck in a freakin' wheelchair for months?! This sucks._

Seeing his brother's distress, Sam decided to point out the funnier side of it. "Just think, Dean, after my surgery we'll be having wheelchair races up and down the halls. Think about Dad trying to keep track of us."

"You're right." Dean conceded, laughing in spite of the pain it caused him because of his injured ribs.

* * *

**TBC...**

**Thanks for reading! Please review!**

**And as always, suggestions and CONSTRUCTIVE criticism are welcome, feel free to put them in a review or PM.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, or the characters, and chances are that I never will.**

**Thanks so much to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter!**

**Please let me know what you think!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Six days later, on strict instructions that he must remain in the wheelchair at all times, Dean was discharged from the hospital, and after farewelling Bobby, who was still feeling guilty about the whole incident, though it wasn't his fault, the Winchester family got into the Impala, which Bobby had towed to the hospital for them several days before, and headed for the interstate, with John driving at the speed limit for once in his life, not wanting to cause either of his sons more hurt.

* * *

It was an extremely long drive, and on the way back, John decided that they really couldn't do it in one day, at least they couldn't while his boys were in the state they were, so he pulled the car into a small motel, and went into the office to book a room for the night.

Behind the counter there was a young girl, maybe fourteen, who had her feet up on the counter, and was flicking through a shiny new copy of some mindless fashion drivel magazine. She boredly greeted John. "Welcome to Rainbow Motel, how may I-" She glanced out towards where John had parked, and then, sitting up a bit straighter, she said. "We don't have any vacancies. Leave now."

John looked at the young blonde, and then followed her glance to where Sam was helping Dean out of the car, into his wheelchair. For a moment John thought about what might have been going through the girl's head, nothing good he was certain. "You're sign out of order then, cos it sure doesn't say no vacancy?"

The girl went silent, she clearly wasn't the brightest person around. "Um, er… Why can't you and those freaks out there just hit the road?! Whatever they have, I don't want it."

It was all John could do not to reach over the narrow counter, and strangle the girl. How could she say that about his precious sons? Guys that in other circumstances she would have been flirting with by now. He took a deep breathe before he told her. "Don't you dare say that about my boys. They're not freaks, and if you'd get off that high horse of yours, you'd see that they're just… they're just normal guys who've had a run of bad luck. You little bitch-"

In an awful coincidence, an older lady, the girl's mother, John would guess came out of the back room. She seemed nothing like the daughter who she was standing just behind as she asked John. "Is there a problem here?" And then she asked her daughter. "Ella, what did you say this time?"

"Nothing mom, I swear, the guy just started to go off at me" An awful person and a liar to boot.

"I just came in here to get a room for the night, and your… lovely daughter, well she told me that my boys were 'freaks'. And I was just explaining to her that they were not, and that my eldest has only just gotten out of hospital following a nearly fatal hiking accident and my youngest is being treated for cancer." John explained, acting much calmer than he was feeling. He then coolly asked. "So do you have any vacancies?"

* * *

They stayed the night before getting back on the road, and late the next afternoon they arrived back in Kansas City.

It wasn't until they pulled up in front of their apartment block that Dean realised something that they should have much sooner. "How am I meant to get upstairs?"

"…" John paused, thinking for a moment. "Crap." He turned to look at Dean, who was sitting in the backseat of the car. "I'm sorry, Dean, I didn't even think…. There's a motel down the road, we can get a room you can access there, until I can find us a new apartment. Okay?"

* * *

The next morning, John left Sam and Dean at the motel, under the pretence of going to get them something for breakfast, and went to his work. As he pulled his truck into the small car park at the front of the garage, John immediately saw his boss, Ben Walters wandering towards the truck. John stepped out of his vehicle as he greeted his employer. "'ello, Ben."

"John, good to see you. How're you and those boys of yours going?" Ben asked genuinely. "I really miss having Dean around here, kid really livened this old place up."

John sighed wearily, running a hand through his hair as he told Ben. "That's why I'm here, Ben."

One look at his employee's expression, and Ben knew something was wrong. "What happened?"

"I sent Dean off with his uncle, to give him a break from everything that's been going on with Sam, but… There was an accident, man. Dean got hurt, badly, he's going to be off his feet for at least a month. I can't keep working; I have to be at home, for them."

Ben was shocked, he unsteadily stumbled over to a small retaining wall, where he promptly sat down, and put his head in his hands. "Is Dean going to be alright?"

John was surprised, he thought that he'd be hearing some speech about why he shouldn't quit, or agreement that he should, he hadn't even considered that their family had been around long enough to have people in the community who actually care if they were breathing. "He's going to be fine, with time."

* * *

Ten days later, John still hadn't found a new place for his family to live, and they were still staying in the motel. And this day, John had to take Sam, and subsequently Dean to the hospital for an appointment with Dr Harris.

When they reached the outer office that served as a waiting area for Dr Harris and several other specialists, Dean and Sam moved over to the seating area, while John spoke to the receptionist.

Even here in the hospital Sam could feel the other people in the waiting room, most of them parents there with their sick children, looking at him and Dean, and wondering, trying to guess what their story was. He had gotten so used to it that he just sighed and turned away from the majority of the other people.

* * *

It was only a few minutes before Dr Harris stepped out of her office, and came over to where the family was seated. She noted the fact that Dean was sitting in a wheelchair, had a plaster cast on his wrist, and on top of that numerous healing grazes and bruises were still visible, and she asked him. "Hello fellas. What did you do to yourself, Dean? Couldn't stand Sam getting all the attention?" She joked.

Dean chuckled, but it was Sam who answered. "No, my genius brother went hiking with our uncle, and he fell off a cliff. He broke his hip in three places. Like I said, real genius."

Alanah laughed lightly as she listened to her patient's story. She then decided it was time to get down to business, and told Sam. "Okay, well we'd better head into my office, and then we can go over the results from yesterday's little barrage of tests."

The family followed Sam's doctor into her office, which they jokingly decided was a bit too small as they tried to settle into the various seats, or in Dean's case, find a space to park his wheelchair.

* * *

Once they were settled, Dr Harris wasted no more time as she pulled each of Sam's scans, old and new out of folders, and placed them on a lightboard by her desk as she explained to Sam. "These are the scans we took at diagnosis, and yesterday, and as you can see, the tumour has significantly decreased in size. This combined with the latest blood work makes me think that the chemo is working fantastically well, and it's time to figure out the next step, the surgery."

Sam trembled noticeably at the thought, though he hadn't spoken to his family about it, he was still terrified that in spite of all the treatment he had already endured, he would lose his leg.

Alanah noticed her patient's reaction, and quickly assured him. "You shouldn't worry, Sam. You've responded better to the treatment than I'd expected, the tumour is smaller than I expected it to be. I think that we should be able to pull off a limb salvage procedure, and have you back on your feet within a couple of months. You most likely will still need a few more rounds of chemo after surgery, to mop up any cells that get left behind, but I have high hopes that you'll do well."

"Okay. So this operation, I have looked it up, but how do you do it?" Sam asked curiously, relieved by the doctor's assurance.

Alanah got a piece of paper from the printer on her desk, and a marker, which she used to draw a diagram as she explained the planned procedure. "I'll cut out the tibia, the bone that the tumour is growing in, so that there's a three inch margin of unaffected bone at each end. And then I'll put a metal rod through the centre of the remaining bone at both ends" She pulled a long piece of metal out of her drawer "like this one here, and I'll use some screws to secure it in place. It won't be quite as strong as your leg was, but with some physical therapy you should still be able to do most things."

"Will my leg be the shorter, after? How do you make sure it's right?"

"We do some very careful measuring, and after the surgery, I've never had a patient who's been able to detect any difference."

And after the surgery? Will I be in another cast?"

"Not a cast, a hard plastic padded brace that will run from your toes to your knee, which you can take off for showers and such, it'll just protect the leg from damage until it's a bit stronger."

"Okay." Sam replied, glad to know that the itchy, uncomfortable cast he'd been stuck with for the past six weeks would hopefully be his last for a while. "So when's all this going to happen? The surgery?"

Dr Harris paused, checking her schedule on the computer before she told the Winchester's. "I can do the operation next Tuesday. That's in four days time, I think that will work well, give you all some time to recuperate before then."

* * *

**TBC...**

**Thanks for reading! Please review!**

**Okay so the next chapter will have the surgery, and we're getting into the bit of the story where I get to ask my favorite question.... Should Sam live, or not?**

**And as always, suggestions and CONSTRUCTIVE criticism are welcome, feel free to put them in a review or PM.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, or the characters, and chances are that I never will.**

**Thanks so much to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter!**

**Please let me know what you think!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

But as it turned out, recuperation wasn't going to happen, the next day John finally managed to get the paperwork organised for the new place he was renting, and it turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Mainly because it was on the ground floor, which made it easier on both his sons, and also because it was twenty minutes closer to Children's Mercy and Sam's high school, which would be easier on everyone than their last place which had been on the outskirts.

John, and to some extent, Dean worked for the next few days to move into the new apartment, and make sure it was comfortable, so that it would be good for Sam, the last thing he needed was to trip over an unpacked box.

* * *

A couple of days later, Sam had to go to the hospital to get some blood tests done. Much to Dean's frustration, Sam had to take the bus, because John had to go pick up a part he'd ordered for his truck, and obviously, Dean wasn't able to get behind the wheel.

But there was a positive side, as Sam was leaving the hospital, he glanced over to the oncology outpatient waiting area, a place he'd become all too familiar with. Sandy was sitting in the corner, alone as always.

_It's so messed up that she has to be here alone. No one should have to do this alone, I should go see how she's doing._ Sam thought as he looked over towards his new friend.

A moment later he made the decision, and walked through the doors, into the waiting room, and went straight over to Sandy, who was looking much the worse for wear. "Hey." Sam said softly as he sat down beside her.

"Hey." Sandy replied, but not making any attempt to move.

"Feeling nauseous?" Sam guessed, he had gotten too familiar with the feeling, and the look of someone who was.

Sandy nodded weakly, keeping her head down as much as possible. "Yeah. Why're you here?"

"I had to have some tests done before I go in for surgery tomorrow." Sam answered, before he asked. "You?"

"Platelets, I'm anaemic …my blood's not clotting." Sandy told him, she had to pause briefly to catch her breath between words.

"You're not doing so well, are you?" Sam asked with concern. If it was possible, she was thinner than when he'd met her, and she just seemed to be deteriorating.

Sandy offered Sam a tiny smile, as she informed him. "The chemo's not working as well as it used to, my doc's got me on an experimental protocol."

Before they could say any more, one of the nurses came over to the pair. "Cassandra, come on back, everything's ready for you." The nurse said with false cheer as she offered Sandy a hand up.

Sandy took the nurse's hand as she pulled herself up out of the chair, she then said to the nurse. "Thanks, Carol" But as she took a couple of steps forward, it quickly became obvious to Sam how weak she was. Carol motioned to another nurse to bring over a wheelchair, and she then helped Sandy sit down in it. "I hate these damn things." Sandy said weakly, but with a passion as she looked up at Sam, who had moved to her side.

Sam laughed, he just couldn't help it. "You should see Dean at the moment; he's stuck in one for at least a month."

"Dean? What happened to him?" Sandy asked, puzzled.

"He was hiking …long story, but anyway, he lost his footing and went about forty feet down a cliff. Broken pelvis, his doctor let him out of the hospital on the condition he'd use the wheelchair." Sam told her as he walked alongside the wheelchair, as Carol pushed it towards the infusion room.

"He must be pretty mad."

Sam laughed again as he sat down in the hard plastic chair next to the seat Carol was helping Sandy into. "He's pissed as hell."

Sandy had to laugh, hearing Sam's story distracted her from her own misery.

* * *

"So, how long are you going to be here for?" Sam asked, after they had sat in silence for a while.

Sandy turned her head wearily towards Sam as she told him. "I always need two units; it usually takes about two hours."

"If you're feeling better after, why don't we head up to the cafeteria, find some lunch?"

"Sounds good." Sandy said as she let her head fall back against the pillow, she then apologetically said. "I'm sorry, Sam. I can't stay awake."

"It's okay." Sam said, he knew all too well that it could very well be him there next week. He took her hand gently as he softly told her. "I'll be here."

* * *

Two and a half hours later, Sandy was feeling stronger since the infusion, but she was still using the wheelchair as she and Sam made their way up to the cafeteria for lunch, and sat down at one of the tables.

Within minutes, though they were both tired, and by no means well, they were talking and joking, so absorbed by each other, they were completely oblivious to the world around them.

* * *

The next morning, as planned, John drove Sam to the hospital. Dean had insisted on being there too as Sam was admitted. Sam had to change into a hospital gown, fill out forms, and let nurses run a seemingly endless list of tests, it was a long a dull process, but it was better than the prospect they knew of what would follow.

* * *

Once the nurses were finished, and Sam was just waiting to be taken into the operating theatre, Dean moved up to Sam's bedside, from where he and John had been staying at the edge of the room while Sam was being tended to. "How're you doing, little brother?" Dean asked concernedly. "You're not worried, are you? We're going to get through this, and everything's going to be fine. Our lives can go back to normal." It was apparent to Sam, and John that Dean's attempt to offer his brother was also an attempt to reassure himself that everything would indeed be fine.

"…" Sam hesitated before he replied. "Yeah, Dean. Everything's going to be fine." He was still a long way from confident. In fact, Sam somewhat wondered if everyone was lying to him, and he would wake up from surgery missing his leg.

* * *

The small family sat in an uneasy silence as they waited for another eleven minutes and twenty-three seconds, not like anyone was counting, before an orderly came into the curtained cubicle. He looked over at Sam as he asked. "Samuel Winchester?"

Sam tightened the grip he had on his big brother's hand as he weakly nodded to the orderly. "Yeah. Is it time?"

"Yep. Are you ready to go?" The burly orderly asked with surprising compassion.

Sam turned to face Dean and his father, and with a lot more certainty than he was feeling, he said. "I'll see you guys in a few."

Sam's simple words were all it took for Dean to finally crack under the pressure of the moment, until now he'd remained stoic, sitting at his brother's side, offering him all the comfort he needed, and asking for none back. He ignored the pain that shot through his still injured ribs as he leaned forward, and pulled himself up towards Sam, who quickly moved to make it easier on Dean.

As they embraced tightly, Dean fought back tears, while Sam attempted to comfort him. "It's gonna be okay, Dean. I'll see you in a few hours, don't worry. I'll be fine." _I hope._

Dean angrily wiped away the tears as he tried to regain his composure, as he pulled away from his brother, and settled back into his wheelchair, he said. "Yeah, I know you will be. I'll be right here."

Sam offered Dean a small smile before turning towards their father. "See you in a few hours, Dad."

"Yeah, son. I'll see you when you get out." John replied before more softly saying. "I love you, son" as he held his youngest son close.

"I love you too, Dad." Sam whispered, almost inaudibly, before he pulled away, and was wheeled away by the orderly.

As the older Winchester men watched their youngest being taken away from them, though neither of them showed their true emotions, they were both being torn apart inside. They were terrified.

* * *

The next six hours were torturous for Dean and John as they sat in Sam's hospital room, waiting for their youngest to be returned to them. It was impossible to ward off the worst case scenarios that kept coming into their minds, but as Sam was brought back into the room by a couple of orderlies, with Dr Harris following closely behind, everything was forgotten.

Sam was breathing, not on a ventilator.

His leg was uncovered, and apart from the stains of antiseptic and a long dressing down the side of his calf, it looked normal, not deformed, not missing entirely.

And though he was still drowsy, he was even awake, not in a coma.

Yes, as they laid eyes on Sam, all their thoughts were quickly proved wrong, he was fine, and Alanah was quick to confirm that as they watched the orderlies settling him into bed.

* * *

Once Sam was settled in, and had fully woken up. Dean and John sat at his side, while Dr Harris hovered at the end of the bed, Sam looked up towards his doctor. His leg was throbbing, but in a way it was good, it told him that it was still there. "Did you get it?" Sam asked nervously, it was the only thing he needed to know, that the tumour was gone, and the treatment would be over soon.

Dr Harris smiled warmly to Sam and his family as she replied. "Of course we'll have to wait for the pathology results, but it looked really good. The margins looked clear, I'm ninety-nine percent that sure we got it all."

* * *

**TBC...**

**Thanks for reading! Please review!**

**And as always, suggestions and CONSTRUCTIVE criticism are welcome, feel free to put them in a review or PM.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, or the characters, and chances are that I never will.**

**Thanks so much to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter!**

**Please let me know what you think!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"Really?" Sam questioned as he thought about and considered his older brother's suggestion, he'd been joking when he said they could do that, but now he thought about it. It sounded like fun. It had been four days since Sam's operation, and he was going stir crazy.

"If you're game." Dean replied, pulling off a little wheelie in his chair, to prove his point. Sam hated using the wheelchair as much as Dean did, but until his doctor cleared him to use crutches, probably in a couple of week's time, Sam had to use it, and Dean was going to make the most of that.

John had gone in search of coffee, and it was shift change which meant they could have up to about ten minutes before someone would come out to stop them. That thought in mind, Dean pulled Sam's chair over towards the bedside.

"Come on, Sam. It'll be fun."

"Fine." Sam said with a sigh, trying to sound put upon.

* * *

A minute later Sam had managed to get himself into the wheelchair, while Dean had been forced to watch his trial and error, unable to help him as he would if the situation was different, and the pair had gone out to the hallway that led to the elevators on the ward.

And in the midst of all the Disney themed murals covering the walls of the oncology ward's entrance, Sam and Dean were quick to get immersed in the act of seeing who could get from one end to the other, while avoiding the disused beds and other items that lined the hallway, and anyone who had the misfortune of having to walk through the area.

* * *

Unfortunately only minutes after they'd started, one of those people, was John. Sam was all of an inch from hitting his father as he sped through.

John stood still, stunned for a moment before he moved into the path of his sons as he shouted out. "Knock it off, boys! What the hell are you doing, are you trying to kill yourselves!?!"

Sam and Dean both stopped in their tracks, and by sheer luck neither fell out as they did.

John closed the distance between himself and his sons as he furiously said. "Well?! What do you have to say for yourselves? What would've happened if you'd fallen out, either of you, your recovery would've been set back by months, months! Do you even understand that?!"

Not even noticing the crowd that was gathering, curious of what the shouting was about, Dean moved forward, and told their father. "Sorry, sir. We got carried away, it won't happen again, sir."

* * *

For the rest of the day, John kept Sam and Dean under a stiflingly close watch, not keen on a repeat performance. And it wasn't until some time after John and Dean had left in the evening that Sam emerged from his room once again, sitting alone in a sterile hospital room was quite possibly the single most boring thing in the universe, and there was a games room down the hall.

* * *

As Sam wheeled himself down the hallway, he thought he heard someone calling his name, he turned around to see Sandy lying in the bed of the room he'd just past.

Sam moved into her room, and as he did he couldn't help but notice how much she had deteriorated; if it was even possible she'd lost more weight, she was just skin and bones, and it looked like even if she wanted to get out of bed, she wouldn't have been able to. _She's dying. _Sam thought as he positioned himself at her bedside.

"What's going on, Sandy? Why're you in here?" Sam asked with genuine concern as he looked up at her, she was, even now beautiful in his eyes.

Sandy gently took Sam's hand in hers as she told him. "Multi system organ failure …sounds fun, doesn't it? My doctor only thinks I've got a few weeks."

"Can't they do something?"

"Nothing that will make any real difference. Sam, if this doesn't get me, the cancer will, and I'm so tired." Sandy said as she leaned back against the backrest.

Without any hesitation, Sam forgot his previous plans, he abandoned them completely, instead choosing to simply sit by Sandy's side, talking to her, and then when she got tired, just sitting with her for hours, until one of the nurses finally ordered Sam back to his room for the night.

* * *

Sam was released several days later, and John and Dean picked him up from the hospital. Their first few days at home weren't easy, Sam was meant to keep weight off his leg as much as possible, and at the same time, Dean couldn't get around easily, and that left John grasping at straws to meet the needs of both his sons, something he really hadn't had to do since before the fire.

* * *

But after being home for nearly two weeks, and with the prospect of the next round of gruelling chemo, which was scheduled to start the next week, looming over him, over breakfast one morning, Sam suggested. "So, do you two think that we could do something today?"

"Like what?" John asked curiously between mouthfuls of cereal.

Sam shrugged casually as he replied. "I don't know. I was just thinking that maybe we could do something, you know, as a family before I start the next round of chemo, cos you know how Dr Harris said that this lot might hit me harder than the last lot, and just in case... I want you guys to have some memories, of us, just being a family."

"Just in case?! What are you talking about, Sammy?" Dean spoke up as he heard those words. Given their current situation, it didn't take a genius to know what Sam was implying, in case he didn't survive.

With more thought and consideration than his boys thought he had, John put his hand up to silence Dean as he told Sam. "That sounds real good, Sam. Where do you want to go?"  
Sam thought for a moment before he suggested. "Actually, I was talking to Marshall last night, and today is the final soccer match for my team this year. Could we just go watch? I know you probably have other things to do, more important-"

"If that's what you want to do, there's nothing more important, nothing that can't wait. Don't you think so, Dean?" John said pointedly, he knew that he'd made numerous mistakes as a parent, but on the chance, however slim that his youngest didn't manage to beat the cancer, he wanted to start making things right.

Dean sighed with frustration before he looked up from the patch of table he'd been staring a hole through. "I don't like it, you guys are acting like Sam is dying, and he isn't, doc Harris said that his chance of remission was seventy percent. So stop acting like this, now, we need to be thinking about what we'll do after this is over, not this."

John shook his head as he listened to his eldest, he glanced over at Sam, who was looking about ready to either scream or cry, before he sombrely reminded Dean. "Dean, I know you don't want to think about what could happen, but we've got to be realistic. Yes, seventy percent of the kids with this cancer survive, but that means that thirty percent don't, even with treatment. So even though we're not focusing on the possibility that Sam might not make it, we have to think about it, kiddo, so today, we are going to watch a soccer match." John almost by force of habit changed the tone of his voice as he said the last part, and it was clear to both boys that John had made his decision, and they were going to follow it.

* * *

**TBC...**

**Thanks for reading! Please review!**

**And just as a little side note, I wrote a little fic the other day, 'Picking Up The Pieces', please check it out!**

**And as always, suggestions and CONSTRUCTIVE criticism are welcome, feel free to put them in a review or PM.**


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, or the characters, and chances are that I never will.**

**Thanks so much to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter!**

**Please let me know what you think!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Just two hours after the decision was made, John was helping Sam and Dean out of the impala, when Marshall came over, dressed in his soccer gear. "Hey, Mr Winchester, I didn't think you guys would be here." Marshall greeted the oldest Winchester as he was getting Dean's wheelchair out of the trunk.

As John unfolded the wheelchair and took it towards the front passenger seat where Dean was not so patiently waiting, he replied. "Yeah, we weren't going to, but Sam wanted to, and you know, he's starting the next round of chemo on Monday, so we just thought it would be good."

Marshall offered John a mumbled response as he made his way over to where he could see Sam trying to manoeuvrer himself and an awkward set of crutches, so he could get out of the car. Marshall took the bulky items from his friend as he greeted him. "Hey Sam, you need a hand?"

Sighing frustratedly, Sam replied. "Yeah, if you don't mind. Still trying to get the hang of these damn things."

Marshall propped the crutches up against the side of the car, then he helped Sam pull himself out of the car, before handing him back the crutches. He kept a hand on Sam's shoulder until he was sure Sam wasn't at risk of falling over.

"Thanks, Marsh." Sam said as he was trying to get his balance, and once he had, he started to move over towards where John and Dean were waiting for him.

As Marshall walked patiently beside his friend, he, with some awkwardness said. "So, how're you doing?"

"…" Sam hesitated briefly before he replied. "I'm okay, man, I just want all this to be over with."

* * *

A few minutes later, as start time drew closer, Marshall reluctantly said to Sam, who was now sitting in the stands alongside his father and brother. "I've got to get out there, Sam." He then added. "The guys will want to see you; it's been ages since you've come to school. I'll come grab you at half time, okay?"

Sam forced a smile as he replied. "Yeah, cool. Good luck."

"Thanks, man." Marshall said before he started to make his way out of the stands.

Sam groaned in frustration as he watched Marshall jog away towards the field. Once again Sam was reminded of just how much this disease had taken from him, just months ago he would've been out there, on the field, now he could barely get to the side lines.

Sensing his brother's pain, Dean leant over, and gave Sam the briefest of hugs as he reassured him. "You'll be back out there in no time, Sammy."

* * *

By half time, Sam, along with John and Dean were completely focused on the game, their drama was all but forgotten, but they were determined to make this day a good one. As Sam saw Marshall making his way through the crowds to them, he forced himself up out of the bleacher seat, and as his friend reached him, Sam smiled genuinely at his friend. "Hey, Marsh! That was great, man, there's no way they'll be able to beat you guys after that."

A moment later, Dean and John watched from the stands as Sam joined his team on the sidelines to watch the half time entertainment, mainly the cheerleaders.

* * *

After the game, as Sam and his family were heading back towards the car to go home, Marshall along with most of the team come over to them. One of the guys, Daniel asked Sam. "The whole team's heading over to that pizza place on king, you want to come?"

Sam immediately thought of the members of the team, as much as they tried to hide it, they were still feeling uncomfortable around him; surely they wouldn't want him there. "Um, I don't know… It's just the team, and I'm not on it anymore, so you guys should just go."

"Come on, Sam." Marshall said encouragingly.

Sam was about to say no, when Reece, who had only sporadically spoken to Sam since the diagnosis, surprisingly spoke up. "You're a part of the team, Sam. Just cos you can't be out there with us now, doesn't mean that when all this is over, you won't come back. You are a part of the team, come on."

Sam couldn't bring himself to say no, he was tired, and not feeling great, but it felt so good to be back in his group, not being treated like the kid with cancer, for once. And half an hour later he was sitting at a booth at the pizza joint, hanging out with his friends like nothing was wrong.

* * *

On Monday, John led Sam and Dean into the outpatient clinic, and just minutes after their arrival, Josie appeared and escorted them back to the first room, the test room as Sam had come to know it.

* * *

Half an hour later, Sam was walking towards the infusion room, and as soon as he stepped through the doors, Sam could feel that something had changed, the air felt heavier, the light seemed dimmer, there was something missing. Looking back, Sam couldn't figure out why he'd asked the next question he did. "Sandy died, didn't she?"

Dean and Josie stopped in their tracks, and after a moment of silence, Josie replied. "Yes, Sam, she passed away on Saturday evening."

"Oh." Sam murmured, as he stumbled backwards, stunned. If it wasn't for John's quick response, Sam would've most likely fallen to the ground.

* * *

In the weeks that followed, Sam slipped into depression, it was as if on some level he'd died along with Sandy, he'd lost all will to live, all hope.

* * *

Early one morning, Dean awoke suddenly, he scanned his room, looking for the cause, he briefly thought that he may have been woken by a lasting symptom of the flu he was only just getting over, but he could tell that it was more than that. He heaved himself out of bed, and began searching the rest of the apartment; nothing was out of place, everything was as it was meant to be, but still he could just sense that something was wrong.

And then as he reached Sam's room, and swung the door open, Dean swore, not so quietly as he laid eyes on his brother.

Sam was lying on the bed, his clothes and the bed sheets soaked in sweat and other substances, and Sam was shivering uncontrollably, mumbling incoherently. As Dean moved closer, he saw that Sam's eyes were glazed over, his cheeks flushed with fever. "Oh god, Sammy." Dean whispered in shock, before he forced himself to snap out of it, Sam needed him to focus. He then shouted out for their father, before he remembered that John had left yesterday to help out on a hunt several hours away.

They were alone.

Before Dean could react, Sam started to jerk violently, he was seizing. There was blood on the pillow, Sam had bitten his tongue, but Dean couldn't do anything about that, he reluctantly had to leave Sam's side, to go call an ambulance.

Dean was out of the room for less than two minutes, but as he returned, to his horror, it was quickly obvious that Sam had stopped breathing.

_No! No, this can't be happening! I can't lose him, not now! We were so close to all this being behind us, and now this! NO!_

Running only on adrenaline, Dean lifted himself out of the wheelchair that had been his prison for over a month, strangely as he hurried to Sam's side, he felt no pain from his still healing pelvis as he crossed the room, and started CPR on his baby brother. "Come on, Sammy! Please, please don't do this! Don't leave me!"

* * *

**TBC...**

**Thanks for reading! Please review!**

**And as always, suggestions and CONSTRUCTIVE criticism are welcome, feel free to put them in a review or PM.**


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, or the characters, and chances are that I never will.**

**Thanks so much to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter!**

**Now, you all wanted more angst, and that's just what you're about to get, and I get the feeling that by the end of this chapter, you'll be begging me to end this fic fast with a nice happy ending.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Dean kept up with the CPR tirelessly until the paramedics arrived over twenty minutes later, but despite his efforts, Sam was still in cardiac arrest as they loaded him into the ambulance, and sped away with Dean following in the Impala.

As Dean pressed his foot down harder on the accelerator to match the increasing speed of the ambulance, which he knew meant nothing good, the single thought that kept running through his mind was. _I can't lose him._

* * *

When Dean reached the emergency department, Sam had already been rushed into a treatment room, and Dean slipped past the security guards with ease, and found the room where his brother was being treated without difficulty. No one tried to make him leave, or ask him what he was doing there as he watched the doctors and nurses working on Sam, putting him on countless machines before they finally ended CPR, and allowed themselves to relax slightly.

After a moment, one of the physicians, an older man approached Dean, his sombre expression spoke volumes as he placed a hand on Dean's shoulder before he said. "I'm very sorry son, we had to put your brother on life support, without the machines he will die."  
"…What… What happened? He's been sick, but it wasn't so bad, he was doing alright." Dean said shakily, in shock.

The doctor hesitated for a moment, he could still see that the young man before him had recently been unwell, and something, an instinct told him that these brothers were very close. "We believe that Samuel has developed a virus, which developed into bacterial pneumonia, and that in Sam's situation has proved more than his body can handle."

"What do you mean? Is he dying?" Dean said, his voice betraying the sheer weight off the emotional devastation he was feeling.

The doctor sighed as he continued. "Sam caught a virus, the flu, and because his body couldn't fight the infection, it caused his body to shut down. He could stay alive on the machines indefinitely, but he will never wake up."

If it wasn't for the wall he was leaning against, Dean would've hit the floor as he heard the doctor's words. His brother was dying, he would never recover.

_I gave Sam the flu, and now it's killing him, now he's going to die because I gave him the goddamned flu!_

_This isn't right, he was supposed to get through this, we were meant to get past this, go back on the road, be a family._

_That's never going to happen, and it's all my fault. _

* * *

Within the hour, Dean and the doctor were standing in an ICU room, watching over Sam's unconscious body. "I'm sorry to have to ask you this, Dean, but do you really think that Sam would want to stay on life support? You can sign a consent form for us to take your brother off the life support, and he can go peacefully, with you by his side."

Dean turned to the doctor uncertainly. "But, I don't get it, even if I wanted that, isn't it our dad's call, his signature you need?"

There was a long silence before the doctor informed Dean. "We received word not long ago that your father was found dead in Kansas State Park by state troopers. They believe it was an animal attack. I'm very sorry; I know that this is too much to ask of you, but... I think you know what your brother would've wanted, and I know that you don't want Sam to suffer any longer."

Numbly, too shocked to even function, Dean sat down beside his baby brother in the hospital bed, and held his brother close, only releasing his embrace briefly to sign the forms handed to him by the doctor.

Then, Dean held Sam as he slipped away, his silent tears soaking the crisp white sheets that covered his baby brother.

* * *

Dean lay there for hours, refusing to leave his brother, and the staff settled for checking in on him sporadically. But then, after over eight and a half long hours, Dean disappeared, he walked out of the hospital without a word to anyone.

* * *

Not long after he left the hospital, Dean found himself parking the impala at the top of a cliff in the Kansas State Park, the same park that just hours ago had taken his father's life.

He couldn't bring himself to face the world without his family, he didn't want to.

And on that thought, Dean knew what he was going to do, and with absolute determination, he released the handbrake and pressed down on the accelerator, sending himself and his beloved impala off the cliff top.

Then, just as suddenly as the whole messed up situation had started, as the impala collided the ground below, smashed apart, Dean woke up in his bed. His heart was racing, he couldn't breathe, it had felt so real, he'd come so close to losing his brother.

Dean knew he had to do something to make Sam start fighting this disease again, before his nightmare became a reality.

But as Dean got out of bed, he was once again reminded of his limitations, only in his dreams was he not stuck in his despised wheelchair. He hit the floor, hard, but it did nothing to slow him down, Dean quickly got himself off the floor, and into the wheelchair, before taking off in the direction of Sam's room. In his mind he was forming a plan as he went, it was just over a week before Sam was to have his next round of chemo and even though it wouldn't be easy, Dean decided to take Sam on a road trip, some time out of this city which held nothing but bad memories for them, their father was sitting in the living room as Dean went past, and it took Dean barely a minute to convince his father; they were both desperate to help Sam.

* * *

A minute later as Dean entered Sam's room, as expected, Sam was lying in his bed, wearing the same clothes he had for days, his face stained by long ceased tears. Dean sighed wearily at the sight of his brother, as he went into the room, he heaved the blankets off his brother, and said. "Get up, Sam. We're leaving."

Of course Sam tried to refuse, but Dean was adamant. He knew that his dream was still way too close to becoming a reality, and he was going to turn it around. And hours later, Dean and Sam hit the road.

* * *

"Why're you doing this?" Sam asked wearily as he watched the landscape of southern Iowa.

Not taking his eyes off the road, Dean casually asked. "Doing what?"

"This." Sam said. "Taking me on some trip, what's the point?"

This simple statement caused Dean to snap, and he furiously shouted at Sam "It's not just you that all this has been hurting, Sam." As he slammed his hand down against the steering wheel. He was fed up with Sam's behaviour, and he wasn't going to let it continue. "You're too caught up with yourself to see what this has done to Dad and me. Watching you do this to yourself, watching you kill yourself …I'd rather be dead, because the pain, it's worse than dying, Sammy. You have to see that."

**

* * *

**

Flashback

"Come on, Sammy. Please just eat something, you have to." Dean was pleading desperately with Sam, as he had every meal in the past four weeks since Sam had lost Sandy.

"No, Dean." Sam said tiredly, rolling away from Dean, before he added. "Just leave me alone."

"Forget it." Dean said under his breath frustratedly as he slammed the plate of food down on Sam's bedside, before leaving the room.

A minute later, Dean was out in the living room with John. "What are we going to do, Dad? He's lost so much weight already, when we saw Dr Harris last week she said he'll need a feeding tube if he doesn't start eating right soon. I know he misses her, but… Damn it, Dad! I don't know what to do! He's killing himself!"

* * *

**TBC...**

**So, what do you think? Enough angst?**

**Thanks for reading! Please review!**

**And as always, suggestions and CONSTRUCTIVE criticism are welcome, feel free to put them in a review or PM.**


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, or the characters, and chances are that I never will.**

**Thanks so much to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter!**

**Wow! I can't believe that my little dream scene fooled almost all of you. I really thought it was obvious, but aparently I'm a better writer than I thought, not like that is saying much. And rest assured that the happy ending you're all begging for is still many twists away.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Present time**

"You don't know what it's like, Dean." Sam said jadedly, keeping his eyes fixed on the view out of the side window. "You don't know."

* * *

After their conversation, Sam and Dean continued on in silence until they reached a truck stop just north of Des Moines, Iowa. Dean filled the impala's tank with fuel before pulling around to the roadhouse style diner. As Dean stepped out of the car, and moved tediously slowly to the back door to grab his wheelchair, he could go longer without it now, but the pain of the fractures still plagued him when he was standing for a long time or walking, he glanced back at where Sam was only now starting to get out of the car. _This has to work, it just has to, I can't let him keep doing this to himself._

* * *

After a minute Sam joined Dean as he was walking, or wheeling as the case may be, into the diner. "Where're we going anyway, Dean? Do you have a plan, or are we just going to go in circles?"

Dean had already given this matter much thought, and ultimately it had come down to a conversation he'd had with his father several days before. "Pastor Jim's" Dean replied as he moved through the door Sam had opened for him. _Maybe he'll be able to get through to Sammy. He has to, I don't know what else to do, he won't listen to me._

"Oh, okay." Sam replied softly as he followed Dean into the diner, where they sat and ate dinner in almost complete silence, before getting back on the road.

* * *

Jim was working in his study, in the early hours of the next morning, when he heard the roar of the impala's engine as it pulled into the front of his house. When he had gotten the call from John two days ago, pleading for help, Jim knew that a visit would be sure to follow.

He hadn't seen the Winchester's in nearly a year, and though he had heard through some hunters he'd helped a couple of months back, that John Winchester's youngest had cancer, until he'd spoken to John, heard the hardened hunter breaking down to him about everything that's been happening, Sam's got cancer, practically refusing to eat, and not sleeping, and is on the verge of getting put into hospital because he's worn himself down so much, and on top of that, Dean's been stuck in a wheelchair for two months, after a hunting accident.

Jim stood up, and walked out of his study and out to the front verandah to meet the Winchesters. He watched as Dean pulled himself out of the drivers seat, and to the back to get his wheelchair out which he then sat down in, before moving towards the passenger side to where Sam was too getting out of the Impala.

As they moved towards the pastor, one thought prevailed. _They look so different, so tired._

And it was true, Dean especially looked very tired, haggard, and so much older than his twenty-one years. And of course Sam, leaning heavily on crutches, his leg wrapped in a bright blue brace, a plain bandanna covering his obviously bald head, and his whole body, the way he stood, the way he moved, betraying his fatigue and illness.

Once the pair reached Jim, he greeted them warmly, despite his shock. "Sam, Dean, it's good to see you. Come on in."

* * *

Just after lunch, of which Sam had eaten little of, and excused himself well before Dean and Jim had finished their own meals, Dean went to search out Sam, and as he searched the house and the adjoining church, it quickly became apparent that Sam was nowhere nearby.

"Damn it, Sammy!" Dean shouted out in frustration as he searched in vain.

* * *

Jim, who Dean had enlisted to help search, eventually found Sam sitting on the banks of a small dam at the back of his property, Sam didn't even look up at the pastor as he walked over and sat down beside him.

"You gave me and your brother a fright, Sam. You know you shouldn't disappear like that." Jim said, there was no real harshness behind his words, he was too relieved that the youngest Winchester was safe to be angry at him.

Sam shrugged, keeping his glance down at the still water nearby.

"I was speaking to Dean earlier, he's really very worried about you, Sam. I have seen people with cancer before, and I know that if they don't really want to recover, they can't get through the treatment." Jim said softly before he carefully continued. "He said that a friend you met at the hospital died, you lost a friend. I won't even pretend to understand what that was like for you, but think about what you're doing, you're going to put your father and Dean through the same thing."

"Shut up! You don't know what you're talking about!" Sam exclaimed, turning to face the older man.

"I'm sorry, Sam. I'm not trying to upset you." Jim said calmly.

* * *

Neither Sam nor Jim spoke for several long minutes, then.

"You loved her." Jim said as realisation hit him. How could he have missed it?!  
Sam finally looked up at Jim, and replied. "It hurts so much, Pastor. I really… I loved her. And it hurts so much, I just want to die too."

Sam's confession shocked Jim, but he remained silent as he pulled Sam into a comforting hug, as Sam broke down.

Jim sat there, listening to Sam cry over his lost love for nearly an hour, before he could so much as convince Sam to come back into the house with him.

* * *

Later that afternoon, once Sam had calmed down, and Jim had had time to speak with Dean about what Sam had said, Dean made his way to the small bedroom where Sam was still lying on the bed. Tears streaked his face, and the expression of devastation that his face bore broke Dean's heart, as he lifted himself out of his wheelchair to sit down beside his younger brother on the bed.

"Sam." Dean said quietly, to draw Sam's attention.

It worked; Sam looked up at Dean wearily a moment later. "What do you want, Dean?"

"I don't know, Sam. What do you think I want?" Dean quipped.

Sam knew exactly what he wanted, he wanted to hear that he'd stop being depressed, fight the disease with everything he has, but he also knew that in his heart, that wouldn't happen.

"Talk to me, Sam." Dean implored, his tone tired and defeated; hearing that his baby brother wanted to die was torturing him.

"It just hurts, Dean. I just want it to stop, I can't do it." Sam admitted, tears once again filling his eyes.

* * *

**TBC...**

**Thanks for reading! Please review!**

**And as always, suggestions and CONSTRUCTIVE criticism are welcome, feel free to put them in a review or PM.**


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, or the characters, and chances are that I never will.**

**Thanks so much to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter!**

**This'll probably be the second last chapter, I know I indicated there would be more, but I think I've found a good (okay, maybe evil) point to leave it. **

**Also, I've put a new poll up on my profile. I'm thinking about writing a prequel and sequel for My Brother's Heart, I'd love to hear if anyone would be interesting in reading those.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

After hearing his brother's heartbroken words, Dean was silent for some time, he had no idea how to even try to respond to what had been said, his baby brother wanted to die, how're you meant to deal with that? What're you supposed to say? 'It's all going to be fine', well you know that's an utter lie, nothing will be fine again for a long time, but you can't say that either.

Eventually it was Sam that broke the silence. "I'm sorry, Dean. I shouldn't have said anything to Jim earlier, and don't even try to pretend that he didn't tell you what I said. I know you know. I never should've told him anything."

"No… No, it's… it's good, you needed to talk, I'm just sorry I wasn't the one you came to. I just wish you didn't feel like that, dude. It must really suck."

"…It does." Sam replied after a brief pause. He would've given anything not to feel this bad, but it wasn't that simple. "It really sucks."

"So, what are we meant to do now? How am I meant to help you?"

Sam paused for a moment before he quietly told his brother. "I don't know. I guess we've just gotta try to turn things 'round."

"Sounds good." Dean replied genuinely. "Whatever you need, I'll be right there."

* * *

That evening, Dean was having a beer while he was watching Jim make dinner. "So, you're sure you don't mind us staying here a few days? We're not getting in your way too much, right?"

"Not at all, Dean." Jim replied quickly, turning away from what he is doing to face Dean, leaning against the bench. "In all the years you boys have been staying here, you've never been the least bit in my way."

There was a long silence before, out of the blue, Jim asked. "So when I was talking to your father earlier, he told he about your accident, you were treated at the hospital up in St Paul, right?"

"Yeah. What are you-"

"He wondered if I would be able to escort you up to the hospital while you're here, so that your doctor can see how you're recovering, maybe get you out of the wheelchair. How's that sound?"

Dean ducked his head slightly, feeling awkward, and there was a brief silence before he looked back up at Jim as he replied. "Um, okay. But only if Sam's up to it, the drive here really wore him out."

"Of course, Dean. I wouldn't do it any other way."

* * *

The next day, Dean was sitting in his wheelchair, alongside Sam and Jim in Dr Wong's office, waiting for the doctor's verdict on Dean's multiple, for the most part healed injuries.

After sitting in silence for several minutes, Dr Wong turned away from the lightboard holding Dean's numerous x-rays, and informed Dean. "Well Dean, your x-rays all look very good. Everything is healing as we hoped, and I think we can get you out of the wheelchair now."

"You sure?" Dean said, not allowing his hopes to be raised.

"Unless you want to wait." Dr Wong said jokingly, fully anticipating Dean response.

"NO!" Dean exclaimed immediately, he wanted nothing more than to be rid of the wheelchair, with the exception of Sam beating the cancer.

Dr Wong smiled, as did Sam and Jim. "Okay then, you'll still have to use a cane for a while, which you can buy from the hospital pharmacy downstairs. As long as you don't put too much strain on the fracture, it should be fine."

"Thank you, doctor." Jim said gratefully, shaking the doctor's hand, and saying goodbye before leading Sam and Dean out of the room, towards the pharmacy, keen to help the boys get through this time in their lives.

* * *

Over the next two days Sam and Dean spent all their time just simply relaxing and having fun, and by the time they were driving back to Kansas City, the atmosphere was much lighter, it was as if a weight had been lifted from their shoulders.

* * *

They arrived back in Kansas City just hours before Sam was due at the hospital for the start of the next, and hopefully final round of chemotherapy. And so it wasn't long before they found themselves once again in the outpatient oncology unit, with Sam having toxic chemotherapeutic drugs pumped into his system.

* * *

By the eighth day of the chemotherapy round, Sam was feeling strong enough to go into school, and that afternoon, Dean picked Sam up from school as usual, and that evening the Winchester family was having dinner when the shrill ring of the phone broke through the silence. "I've got it." Dean grunted as he put his dinner on the couch beside him and pulled himself out of his seat, before walking over to the phone and answering it. "Yeah?"

"Heya, I'm looking for John Winchester. Is he 'round?" The stranger asked gruffly.

Dean wasn't in the mood for talking, he was tired and it had been a long day, and as a hunter, he knew better than to give someone he didn't know anymore information than he had to, so he cryptically replied. "Maybe… What do you want?"

"I don't wanna talk to you, I wanna talk to John, give 'im the phone, man."

"Forget it, you've got me, now talk or hang up." Dean said frustratedly.

Dean heard the man sigh before he said. "Fine. I got his digits from a hunter, Caleb Reeves; you know 'im?" The man was clearly checking that he was speaking to another hunter before he said anything.

"Yeah, I've worked a few jobs with Caleb. Now, what do you want?"

"He said that John was good with poltergeists, that I could get his help on this hunt I'm doing. That true?"

"He's good, but we're out of the life. Find someone else." Dean said firmly, and he was about to hang up the phone when John came into the kitchen, and promptly he snatched the phone from Dean. "Hey!"

"Jeff, that you? It's John." John said into the phone as he moved slightly away from Dean, but unfortunately still within hearing distance.

"Yeah. What was that other guy talkin' about? You ain't hunting anymore?"

John hesitated slightly, he didn't know the other man well, only by reputation. But a moment later he replied. "I've had some family stuff holding me up, we'll be hitting the road in a couple of weeks."

* * *

"…we'll be hitting the road in a couple of weeks." Those words struck Dean like a tonne of bricks, on some level he had known for a long time that once Sam was better they would inevitably have to leave, but this was too much, leaving within days of Sam finishing treatment, not giving him any time to recuperate, it wasn't right.

Dean knew it wasn't right, but he also knew that once John Winchester had made his choice, no one could change his mind; they were moving on, and there was nothing he could do to change that. _I just wish that Dad would give Sam some time, this is going to hurt him._

* * *

**TBC...**

**Thanks for reading! Please review!**

**And as always, suggestions and CONSTRUCTIVE criticism are welcome, feel free to put them in a review or PM.**


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, or the characters, and chances are that I never will.**

**Thanks so much to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter!**

**I'm so so sorry this took so long to get up, I had total writers block, but I've had a couple of days at the beach now, and that's all it takes to get it going again, so hopefully there'll be no long waits for awhile. Fingers crossed!**

**This isn't how I planned for the final chapter to go, but I think it sorta works, please let me know what you think.**

**And thanks to everyone who's taken my poll, I'm working on the sequel now for My Brother's Heart, and I'll probably do a prequel too. And I've got some other new fics started, so I'll start posting something new soon.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

In true John Winchester fashion, before Dean could stop him John was off the phone, and too focused on his own agenda, the hunt to find the thing that killed Mary, to comprehend the pain he was about to inflict on his son alongside his brother had been trying to talk him out of the move out of Kansas City. He'd already said many hurtful things, but the next words out of his mouth took the cake, as in that moment he didn't even consider the repercussions for his family, as he frustratedly shouted at Sam. "You've held us up long enough, Sam."

"But, Dad-" Dean tried to speak up, only to have John drive the knife further into his youngest's heart and twist it.

"You know how many people are dying every day that we aren't out there?! Do you know that, Sam?" John paused for effect. "As soon as Dr Harris clears you, we're back on the hunt. That's final, no more arguments."

John instantly knew his mistake, but one look at his youngest's heartbroken expression told him that the damage had been done. John knew that he should stay, try to make it up to his son, to both his sons, but he couldn't bring himself to have the emotion heavy conversation that would be required, so without a word to either of his sons, John turned on his heels, and he hastily exited the apartment.

Dean could only offer Sam a sympathetic glance before he too was out the door, leaving Sam alone in the apartment, devastated.

* * *

As Sam watched from his place on the couch, as his father and then his brother left the apartment. _He's right, I've held them up for months, if it wasn't for this damn cancer we would've left months ago._

_Dean would try to convince me that that wasn't true, he always does, he's always trying to make me feel better._

_But Dad's right, who knows how many people are dead now because I was keeping Dad from hunting?!_

_I guess I should've known this would happen though, even thought things were different now. I thought we'd stopped moving around, that we actually could have a home and friends, jobs, a normal life._

Sam shook his head sadly at the thought. _I guess things never really change._

* * *

John didn't take long to find his way to one of the nearest bars, as did Dean just minutes after, and that evening they each drank more alcohol than the average person does in a year. Trying to forget the devastation on their youngest's face.

* * *

They didn't return until well into the next morning, and that was the beginning of two of the most awkward, deathly silent weeks of their lives. And they were still barely speaking the day after Sam's final chemotherapy round finished, as Sam was waiting alongside Dean and their father for what will hopefully be the last appointment with Dr Harris.

"Feels weird, doesn't it?" Dean said out of the blue as he examined the new painting on the wall across from him. He had been in this bright, yet so claustrophobic set of rooms all too many times.

"Yeah, it does." Sam agreed as he picked at the loose thread on the hem of his jeans. "It's going to be weird, not coming here any more. What'll we do with ourselves?" Sam joked.

Dean laughed in response, and they quickly found themselves back in the thick of their brotherly banter, so much so they barely noticed Dr Harris enter the outer office.

* * *

A minute later, greetings over with, the Winchesters were sitting in Dr Harris' office, with her. Beaming, Alanah told Sam. "You're cancer free, Sam." She was joyful, it was the best part of her job to give families this news. "Of course you'll still need regular check ups, but it looks really good."

"Thank you! Oh my god, thank you!" Sam gushed, overjoyed, it was finally over, and now everything was going to be fine, or so he thought.

* * *

That evening, John strode into the living room, as he said. "We're leaving in the morning, boys. Pack your gear before bed tonight."

Dean and Sam's heads snapped up upon hearing this. Sam was stunned into silence, as was Dean for a moment before decided to intervene before their father said something else damaging. "Dad, can we talk? Get out of here, Sam."

Sam quickly complied, and a moment later Dean and John were standing in the middle of their living room.

"Why don't you take off now, and me and Sammy will meet up with you after the school year ends?" Dean suggested, trying to find a way around this without pissing his father off.

John was about to rebut his son's suggestion, ordering him to stop fighting, but he paused for a moment thinking. _Maybe it would be better. Sam's still going to be pretty weak for a while, it could be dangerous to have him on a gig. I nearly lost him once, if he got hurt on a hunt… I don't think I could forgive myself. Dean'll take good care of him, I know he will, but… I don't want to leave him again, it was too close. _"I don't know, Dean."

Dean was thinking along very similar lines. "The chemo's over, but he's still so tired …and he still has to have his port taken out, that'll mean staying put at least a week. I can take care of him, Dad, he'll be okay, and this way we won't have him pissed off at both of us for the next thousand miles."

"I said I don't know, Dean." John said frustratedly, turning away from his son, and walking over towards the window. "Get to bed, I'll think about it, and in the morning… we'll talk."

For a moment Dean was stunned, this was a side of his father that he'd rarely seen. "Thanks, Dad."

* * *

As Dean walked away from his father, towards his bedroom, he walked past Sam's room, and he felt his heart get ripped just a bit more as he heard his baby brother sobbing quietly. _Damn it, Dad._

Dean couldn't help but wonder if his brother would ever truly be able to forgive their father as he walked away.

* * *

The following morning's breakfast was a silent affair, but just as Dean was standing up to clear the plates, John finally spoke. "Okay, Dean."

Dean nearly dropped all the plates on the floor, he was sure their father would pull rank over him.

"Okay, okay what?!" Sam piped up, confused.

Dean and John exchanged a glance before Dean replied. "We're staying in town until school ends, you and me, then we'll meet up with Dad. Is that okay, Sammy?"

Sam laughed briefly, disbelievingly, but after a moment he turned to his father, and genuinely told him. "Thank you."

* * *

The following months past quickly, and all too soon it was the last day of school before the summer break, the last day that Sam and Dean would be in Kansas City, by nightfall they were supposed to be meeting their father a couple of towns over.

As usual Marshall and several others from their group were waiting out the front when Dean dropped Sam off just before the bell. As usual they all greeted Sam enthusiastically, but Sam remained unusually silent, he'd known that this day was coming, and at least this time he'd get a chance to say goodbyes and also to just finish out the year.

* * *

Sam remained silent through the first two classes, and it wasn't until recess when he was sitting alongside his friends that one of his friends, Matt looked over at Sam, and asked. "What's up with you today, man? We're on holidays tomorrow, you should be celebrating."

Sam shrugged slightly, and turned away from his friends. He didn't want to talk, he just wanted to be normal, and while this year had been the furthest thing from normal, it had also been the closest he'd had in a long time, and he didn't want to admit that in just hours it would be over.

But his friends kept pushing, and after trying to resist for awhile, Sam gave up. "I'm leaving; my family's moving away after today."

"WHAT?!" His friends exclaimed, they knew his father had been away a lot, but they hadn't sent this coming.

"It sucks, but what can I do. Honestly guys, I got lucky to be here this long." Sam said, his shoulders hunched, and his gaze not quite meeting his friends'.

* * *

The rest of the afternoon was a blur, and that afternoon as Sam walked out of the entrance of his high school for the very last time, it was bittersweet for him, this school, North Kansas High would go down in history as the only school Sam had spent the whole year at, and this city for him would always hold both his best and worst memories.

He'd nearly lost his life, but he'd made lifelong friends, and learnt many valuable life lessons.

If he hadn't have gotten sick, they would've left months ago, he probably would've been to numerous schools since, this school, everyone he knew here would've been long forgotten. It wasn't as though he'd ever expected things to stay the same here, before he got sick, he'd been enjoying the time he had here, but he never expected it to last.

Dean had the impala parked right out front of the school, waiting for Sam, and as he saw Sam approaching, he leant over and pushed the passenger door open, and called out to his younger brother. "Hey, Sam! You ready to go?"

Sam hesitated slightly before nodding as he walked over and stepped into the passenger seat of the impala, and closed the door with a solid thud behind him as the engine revved and Dean pulled out of the carpark, speeding towards the edge of town and subsequently the highway, effectively closing this chapter in their lives.

* * *

**The End.**

**Thanks for reading! Please review!**

**And as always, suggestions and CONSTRUCTIVE criticism are welcome, feel free to put them in a review or PM.**

**Catch you all on the next fic!**


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